Waiting for Your Train To Come
by Boom-Rhapsody
Summary: GoM rewrite. main char: Ray Crisp. you never wanted what you got, but in the end you relied on a thought a thought that yo uthought would set yo ufree but it only led you to see what you really keep inside of you what really happened what's really true
1. Ghost of All Kinds

**Like Waiting on Your Train to Come**

Chapter One: Ghosts of all kinds

Jean gasped as her eyes snapped open. Another nightmare had plagued her, more vivid and realistic than before. She rose and sighed, rubbing her eyes. Looking around her room, she saw her clock and how it displayed the time, flashing red in time with the seconds. 1: 17 AM, she thought, sighing again as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and got up. She walked out of her room, careful to close the door quietly. She shuffled down the hallway, her hand against the wall, fingers gracing the wallpaper, a guide for her in the darkness of the mansion.

A crack of lightening lit up the hallway, casting shadows for a split second. Jean paused, listening to the roll of thunder. Counting to five, she only made it to three before another bolt of lightening came down. He continued down the hallway, listening to the rain hitting the roof and the walls, seeming to echo around the mansion. She decided to find the TV room and watch something, hoping that that would calm her nerves.

* * *

Ray waved to his friends as they drove off, leaving him at the end of the drive that would lead to his current home. He made sure the truck had rounded the corner and disappeared, before he started up the drive. He ran his fingers through his hair to get rid of the Mohawk he had put in his hair hours before. He yawned, reliving the night's events as he snuck through the wooded area surrounding the mansion. He had snuck out at ten-thirty, just after light's out, and had fired the security systems long enough to make it over the wall and to the street.

He had then joined several of his "Cohorts in Anarchy" for a gig at a local hang-out for teens of his scene. The gig was held outside of Bayville, in a warehouse building converted into a quick concert hall. There had been a few hundred people, and Ray's band, C.I.A., had been playing with a few others. It had been a great show. Ray had given it his all on his guitar and even sang a song for the masses. He was going to stay longer, but when he saw it was midnight he knew he had to head home before Logan made his rounds and found him missing.

He stopped for a moment, and leaned against a tree. Now the fencing was in sight, and Ray could see the gardens. But he still paused. He found it funny in all the irony that no one at the Institute besides Sam knew he was in a band. To mostly everyone, he was just another troubled teenager with an extra burden. Ray didn't want attention to be brought on himself; he liked being solitary most of the time with a small clutch of friends.

Maybe that's why he didn't say anything about the band. He didn't want attention. He thought though, that Professor Xavier had an inkling about what he was doing. No one had caught him sneaking out yet, or approached him about it, so Ray thought he stood a chance at getting away with his nightly charades for a little while longer.

Ray approached the fence, taking off black gloves. He looked up at the first roll of thunder, and then saw the lightening coming .Everything seemed to go in slow motion. Ray held his hand up, calling the bolt to him. It struck him and for a moment he felt pain course through his entire being, from his skin to his soul, but then it subsided as he felt a rush of power. He grinned as he pulled his hand down, watching as tiny bolts coursed over his flesh, then reached out and took hold of a metal bar. He sent the pent-up electricity straight to the security system, hearing a crack and a static sound not far off. He froze then, making sure the system was out, before scaling the fence and jumping down to land in the garden. He then made a run for the kitchen door, ducking under things to avoid scanning cameras, the only equipment he had yet to figure out how to disarm.

He reached the door, and pulling out a small wallet form his back pocket, he removed a small hooked device from its little pocket. Inserting it into the lock of the door, he pressed his ear near the doorknob until he hear a click. With a smile he put the lock pick away and opened the door. He snuck into the back living room, and made his way to the grand staircase. He was walking down the left hallway, in the direction of his room, when he heard a noise coming from down the hall. Ray ducked into a room, an office, but peered around the doorway to see what the noise was.

It was a bright figure, a girl; he thought .She looked scared and was running down the hall, looking behind her. But when she looked ahead again she stopped, and was looking around the hallway. Ray's jaw dropped. It seemed she was ghost, but color was coming to her figure. Was she solidifying? He thought, watching in awe.

But as soon as the color began to return to her, it faded away and she started running again, opening her mouth to scream though nothing came out .Ray jumped out in front of her, intent on stopping the intruder. But to his shock, she went through him. The feeling was numbing, cold, and she disappeared behind him, leaving behind a misty haze. Ray whipped around, but saw no one. Horrified and rattled, he sank to his knees, finally letting out a shout of confusion as he felt his body fearfully to make sure nothing was missing.

* * *

Jean rounded the corner, but stopped. A white figure darted across the wide hallway, appearing just beside the wall and disappearing before running into the opposite wall. Jean couldn't determine what it was exactly. A play of shadow and light? A hallucination?

A mutant?

"Come on, Grey," she whispered to herself; "You're just tired."

She continued down the hallway, but the ghoul appeared again. This time, Jean clearly saw the face, so dramatic and fearful. Jean let out a shriek, and stumbled back, tripping on the carpet and falling onto her behind. The figure kept running towards her, and Jean feared it would try to attack her. Throwing out her hand, she sent out a wave of telepathic energy, but to no avail did it work. The ghoul kept coming. Jean shrieked again, but as the figure came at her, it disappeared, leaving behind a wispy haze that dissipated like a fine mist. Jean breathed heavily, her breaths short and high-pitched.

The hallway was suddenly filled with artificial light. Ororo came around the corner; "Jean!" she exclaimed, dropping down beside her student; "What's the matter? You're so pale, did something happen?"

Jena nodded shakily, gripping at the air before she found Ororo's nightgown and pulled her to her, and Ororo noticed she was shaking.

"I-I s-s-saw a g-g-ghost!" Jean managed, looking at her mentor with fearful eyes.

"Come on, let's find the Professor," Ororo said, helping Jean up as she rose.

The young woman was shaken thoroughly, and Ororo was without quick solution. She led Jean to the TV room and sat her down on the couch, and then bent down in front of her, taking the redhead's hands in her own like a worried mother.

"I'm going to find Charles, will you be okay here by yourself or should I simply send for him?" She asked worriedly, searching for answers in Jean's eyes.

"I'll… I'll be fine here," Jean said shakily, nodding as Ororo rose. The Storm Goddess left.

Jean reached for the remote and turned on the TV. She was channel surfing when she found the news to be on. It seemed odd, for the news to be on, but she realized it was from…

Kentucky? She thought, her face a picture of confusion. She leaned in as the newscaster came back onto the screen.

"This just in," the man was saying; "Reports of ghost sightings have been pouring in, in the past twenty minutes. Residents from Chicago to Chattanooga and in between have reported seeing a bright figure of a girl running and then disappearing…"

He didn't get a chance to finish for a certain viewer. Jean had turned the TV off, and continued to stare at the black, empty screen.

* * *

The hallway came alive with light and Ray looked around as they all came on. He scrambled to his feet and made a run for his room, only to collide with Logan as he rounded a corner. Ray was floored, the Wolverine remaining standing as if nothing had hit him.

"Crisp? What are you doin' outta bed?" He asked suspiciously, crossing his arms.

"Logan, th-there was a ghost, a real ghost!" Ray stammered, scrambling to his feet again.

"A ghost?" Logan asked, an eyebrow arching up skeptically; "Kid, have you been gettin' into stuff you shouldn't be gettin' into?"

"No! Logan, I swear there was a ghost!" Ray said, looking around; "It went through me!" he insisted.

Logan continued to look at Ray; "Alright, let's find the Professor," he said, taking Ray firmly by the shoulder and leading him down the hall; "And you can tell me what you were up to on the way…"

"I was just out walkin' around cuz I couldn't sleep," Ray said, shrugging Logan's hand off of his shoulder as he walked by his teacher and "dad" figure. That was a role Logan had assignment to himself.

"Well, can't blame ya for wanted to walk around in that case, though I think yer lyin' to me," Logan said gruffly.

* * *

Five minutes later, Ray, Logan, Ororo, and Xavier were in the TV room. Ray and Jean retold their stories, the professor listening intently. Jean was more convicted than Ray, though, but his detail offered Xavier a slightly greater insight to the issue. As he was about to speak, Hank came in, a few papers held in his large hands.

"Got the info, he said, setting the papers down on the coffee table.

"That's her!" Ray and Jean exclaimed in unison, each pointing to the picture on the top paper.

Xavier nodded; "You both have just been involved in the latest mutant occurrence," he began; "Cerebro detected mutant activity not twenty minutes ago," he paused; "Her name is Meg DeBonte, a native of Tennessee. Based on what you both have said, it seems she is in distress and needs our help. Now, it is too early, but we will head out in the morning to hopefully find her and offer her and invitation to come to this school. But I advise that you both say little of this matter to your fellow students and go to bed. Are we agreed?"

The recruit and X-Man nodded, and both rose. Jean said a quiet "goodnight" and Ray nodded to the teachers, but as soon as Jean left, Logan stepped in front of Ray.

"Hold on, Crisp," he said, motioning for Ray to sit down again.

Ray rolled his eyes and sat down, finding the four adults looking down on him disapprovingly.

"Ray," Xavier said, "It's come to my attention that you've been sneaking out as of late…"

Ray stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and appeared unfazed, and Logan cuffed him on the shoulder without restraint. "Show some respect," he muttered, almost growled.

And Ray sat up straighter. "Yeah, but just to walk," Ray said, shrugging.

"You've left the grounds!" Hank said; "Short-circuited the system probably five times!"

"Ray, why have you been leaving at night?" Ororo asked gently, sitting down.

"That's my business," Ray said quietly, looking down though he felt her gaze on him and it stung. Ororo was good to him, good to everyone at the mansion. He felt slightly guilty for letting her down. He knew he somehow had.

"We're your guardians, Ray," Hank said; "Your business can become our business if we think it's bad."

"Trust me when I say it isn't," Ray said, looking up at Hank after he spoke.

Hank sighed, crossing his arms as he removed his glasses; "Trust _me_ when I say that we all care," he said quietly.

Ray looked around, and got up; "It's late," he said; "Sorry I woke you all up or worried you. Can I go?" his gaze fell on Xavier, who merely stared back.

Ray nodded slightly, and then walked out of the room. Logan was about to follow, but Xavier spoke; "Logan, don't."

Logan stopped and looked at Xavier; "Kid's keepin' secrets," he said gruffly.

"Yes, all teenagers do," Xavier said; "What Ray is doing at night is nothing illegal, I was able to gather that much."

"His lack of sleep is interfering with his studies, Charles," Ororo said.

"And he's not exactly 'connecting' with the other students," Hank said quietly; "I know he's had a rough time growing up, but it's beginning to worry me."

Xavier sighed, rubbing his eyes; "I understand how you all wish to help, I do as well," he said, "But some things are to be taught on their own time," he paused; "I feel we should focus on hopefully preparing for a new addition to our students, and preparing for the trip tomorrow."

"Lucky tomorrow the kids have the day off for in-service," Hank said; "Who do you plan on taking with you?"

Xavier thought for a moment, then replied; "I, Ororo, Scott, Kurt, Kitty and Jean will go. Hank, can you and Logan handle the others while we are gone?"

"Count on us, Chuck," Logan said, yawning.

* * *

**TBC**

**

* * *

a/n:** I've decided to re-write _Ghost of Mine_, which is this story. hopefully it will be better written. please review! 


	2. Looking at Me, Previously

**Like Waiting on Your Train to Come**

Chapter Two: Looking At Me, Previously

Scott drove his car down the road, idly looking around at the scenery. Jean sat beside him, Kurt and Kitty in the back. Xavier had debriefed them on their next assignment, Operation: Find the Ghost, Kurt had humorously referred to it as. They had flown down here, and once they landed on a private airstrip, Scott had driven his car out of the jet, and they had climbed in. Xavier had brought his vehicle as well, and he and Ororo drove ahead of them now on the road.

It was a beautiful day for May. The sky was blue, brighter and clearer than up in New York, Scott noticed. The mountains lined the horizon all around them, the hills were boundless and rolled on for forever; it was all such a picture-perfect scene he had a hard time accepting it for real at times. It was peaceful; there were not chaotic noises of city life, or of school. He enjoyed the silence, the only real sound he heard was Kurt and Kitty sleeping in the back.

Jean sat in silence, looking ahead with her arms crossed. She was deep in thought, and it worried Scott how perturbed she was. So he brought it up.

"What's the matter, Jean?"

Jean looked up when she heard the quiet, worried question. Scott was watching the road, though he turned to look at her for a moment. "I'm just thinking…" she said quietly, looking away.

"About what, the assignment?" Scott asked; "Jean, if something's up, you can tell me."

"I know," she said with a slight smile; "It's just… well, did Xavier tell you about last night?"

"Yeah," Scott said with a sigh; "Also mentioned how we needed to keep an eye on Berzerker. But that's not important right now. We're talking about you, here."

Jena let a small halfhearted laugh pass her lips; "It just… shocked me," she said; "I mean… she was there then she was gone, when she was there she seemed so scared, so… so confused. She acted as if she were being chased! I don't know," she finally said, shaking her head; "It just… rattled me. I didn't go back to sleep," she said suddenly, looking at Scott; "I… I couldn't stop thinking about when I was able to make out her face, her eyes…"

Scott nodded, "It's all okay, Jean," he reassured her, his hand on her shoulder for a moment. Oh how he wished he could hold her hand, but he didn't, letting his hand gravitate back to the steering wheel. "This is gonna get sorted out," he said, pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose to give himself something to do.

Jena nodded. The following hour was given away to silence. Scott followed Xavier's car into a small town seemingly caught in a standstill. The buildings on the main road were the products of 19th century architecture. People walking down the streets stopped to watch the two cars drive down, some waved. Jena turned and woke Kitty and Kurt up. The two cars pulled up along the side of the street. Scott got out and walked over to it, the door opening to reveal Xavier.

"Scott, will you four please try and see if Miss DeBonte is in the town?" he asked.

Scott nodded; "Of course, sir," he said.

Xavier smiled, and handed Scott two copies of the girl's picture; "Here, these may be of good use to you."

Scott took the pictures and with a smile he shut the door. He waved as the car departed, and then walked back to his car.

"Alright, guys, here's the deal," he said as he gave Jean a picture; "Jean, you and Kitty will go down this side of the road and see if Meg's around. Kurt, you and I will take the other side."

* * *

Ray walked through the institute, having just cleaned up after a Danger Room session. He stretched and went into the TV room, surprised that it was empty. Most of the recruits were down by the pool, and Ray knew Rogue was holed up in her room, probably writing poetry. Ray sat down, intent on watching some TV, when he saw that the files Hank had presented merely hours ago were still on the coffee table.

He picked them up, staring at the picture. She was a pretty girl, for sure, with a girl-next-door smile. She had red hair, with faint streaks of pale blonde highlights. She had the bluest eyes Ray had seen, bluer than his got whenever he was in Berzerker mode. His finger lightly traced the picture as he thought about the previous occurrences.

He set the paper down, and picked up the others. It was mostly her biography, when she was born, who her parents were and what they did, what school she went to. Ray was surprised that she was home schooled, but then it gave a reason for the innocence in her smile. But as he read the documents it made him think…

_Do they have this kind of information on me? _

Determined to get answers, Ray set the papers down and headed out of the room. He headed for the first floor, and he then found Xavier's office. It was like a small study, in all honesty, what with the walls lined with bookcases full of books and a small chess table set up by the large windows. The large mahogany desk set off to the side had a computer on tome of it, and a bookcase behind it that served as an open filing case. Ray headed for the files, looking for his name amongst the folders. He found it, noticing how his was relatively thick with papers.

Taking it and sitting down at the desk, Ray opened the folder, a identification sheet greeting his curiosity. It showed his picture, and round of the mill information. Ray set the paper aside, and froze. He saw a pink paper that bore all of the homes he had been sent to. Upon going through the remaining papers, he saw that they were detailed reports on the homes he had been in, what age he had been when eh was in them, and why he was removed from them. _Can't believe I've been through over fifteen_, Ray thought.

Ray finally paused when he reached the final thing occupying the folder. It was a newspaper clipping, an article. Ray stared at the headline, and then read the article…

_**8 YEAR OLD SURVIVES EXPLOSION**_

_Bernie Anderson was found dead in his home earlier today at 4:00 p.m. after a 911 call was issued by a neighbor. An explosion had been heard coming from the house, and when the police reached the scene they found wires from the telephone polls had been disconnected from the house and what was once the living room was now a demolished corner of the house, the second floor close to collapsing. _

_RaefordAdam Crisp, Anderson's eight-year-old stepson, was found in the cellar underneath the house huddled under a metal table, dirty from debris, sporting hands with second degree burns and bruises on his arms and chest. The child's injuries seem to be unrelated to the explosion itself, but speculation is still leaning towards the disconnected wires._

"_We think he may have been playing outside when the explosion occurred, and out of fear ran to hide in the safest place he could think of," Officer Donald Hues, one of the first officers to arrive at the scene, reported._

_Anderson's wife, Angela, was not at the home when the explosion occurred. Neighbors say that she had not been at the house for over a week, which has brought up suspicion on how well the life was behind closed doors…_

Ray covered up the article slowly with the other papers, and closed the folder. He sat there with his hand atop it for a moment, staring down in a haze. He remembered that day, remembered it like a bitter nightmare, as it often was.

_He had been playing outside with his G.I. Joes and his trucks, pretending to be in the heat of battle, when his stepfather had come home, angry that he had been laid-off, a detail the article failed to report. Ray soon became an unwilling punching bag for the man, and eventually, Ray had run to hide in the living room. He had ducked behind the sofa, and when he heard his stepfather come in, out of fear, he grabbed the floor lamp and swung it at the man. But it had been yanked from Ray's hands and used against him, butting him in the chest and sending him flying. Ray had turned and managed to fall on his hands and knees, just beside the table with the phone. He felt a power in him, then, and taking the phone he threw it at Bernie. What followed the phone was a powerful jolt of electricity that Ray had created, what he had made in his small frame of a boy. It had hit Bernie and knocked him down, traveled through the phone line and had such power that it disconnected the wires and caused the electric works in the living room to explode..._

It had been a week after his mother had left, and abandoned him, in Chicago.

Wiping tears away before they could fall, Ray put the file away, and then left the office as it had been before he had come through. He headed back to his room, to pull out his real father's dusty old guitar and try to fix it. He reached his room, and pulled the old leather case. Sitting on his bed, he placed it in his lap, and ran his hand along it, feeling the texture of the worn cow hide.

It was pretty much all his real father had left him, the guitar and its leather case. But it had been a gift from the heavens for him. It was his prized possession, a Les Paul. Ray opened it up, looking at the black guitar with a net worth he didn't know. Ray set the case down and put the guitar into playing position. His fingers found the strings, and he began to play, letting his frustration and anger pour into the music. He let it flood his senses, let it consume him, and he felt like he was the _music_, not himself.

A knock at the door cause Ray to stop playing and look up, and he saw his roommate, Sam, standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

"Couple of us are going down to the beach," Sam said; "Wanna come?"

"Guess so," Ray said, putting the guitar away; "When we leaving?"

"About an hour," Sam said; "Yur playin' sounded sad, Ray. What's up?"

"Nothing," Ray said, his walls going up. He wasn't up to talking.

And Sam understood; "'K, man," he said.

* * *

Four stores and two restaurants later and Scott was no closer to finding the girl in the photograph Kurt carried with them. They were heading back to Scott's car after combing the left side of the street, when they saw a teen close to their age inspecting the sports car. Scott quickened up in his pace and Kurt chuckled under his breath.

"Can I help you?" Scott asked, causing the teen to look up at Scott and back away from the car in surprise.

"Hmm? Nah man, just checkin' out the ride," he said; "Nice, by the way."

"Uh, thanks," Scott said as Kurt walked over.

"So, what's brought y'all to this town?" the teen asked; "Not like Yankees, or anyone else fer that matter, to come through here that nobody knows."

"Well, actually," Kurt began; "Ve are looking for dis person," he showed the teen the picture.

The teen took the picture and stared at it for only a moment, and then looked form Scott to Kurt; "I think I could help ya," he said; "Who are y'all?"

"I am Kurt, and dis is Scott," Kurt said; "Vell, do you know dis girl?"

"I do," the teen said; "I'm Reggie, by the way. What do you want with her?" he handed the picture back to Kurt.

"Well, we are actually representatives for a school," Scott explained; "We think Meg might be a good candidate for a spot there in the fall."

Reggie nodded, "Well, I'll get my bike and y'all can follow me there."

Jean and Kitty joined them ten minutes later, and soon they were following Reggie out of the town and down a road that quickly went from pavement to gravel, and then from gravel to dirt. The wheels of the bike and the car kicked up dust and left a smoky trail behind them. Twenty minutes out and the town behind them, Reggie went between to iron gates held open by year soft ivy that crawled over from large trees that created a canopy. The drive was gravel again and they found themselves riding under a tunnel created by the trees, the golden sun filtering through the branches.

They came to a large, beautiful plantation home, three stories high and stretched out and back for a good acre and a half. There was a separate house that had once been the kitchen building. There was a beaten path that led to stables and barns, and another that led to an orchard. The fields around them rolled for miles, some housing crops while other harbored cattle and horses alike. The X-Men got out and looked around in wonder, but Reggie only rolled his eyes at them as he parked his bike in front of the house.

Scott saw that Xavier and Ororo had beaten them to the house, the classic, elegant car parked at the house's side, by the garage. Scott and the others waited by their car as Reggie went up to the front door.

Reggie rang the doorbell, and a few moments later, the door opened to reveal a stout old woman in an apron with a wooden spoon in her hand. She frowned at Reggie, who smiled innocently.

"Is Meg here, Missus DeBonte, ma'am?" Reggie asked politely, tipping his hat to the woman.

"Yeah, she's out ridin'," the woman said, peering over Reggie's shoulder; "Who's that there witcha?" she asked, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Oh, people from a school," Reggie said; "They wanted to meet meg."

"They must be the students Mister Xavier was referrin' to…" the old woman mused; "Alright, go find Meg, boy."

Reggie smiled, then jumped off the porch as the woman closed the door; "Foller me!" he called, beckoning for the mutants to.

The four followed Reggie down the path to the stables. He went around them, and by the time Scott and the others caught up with him, Reggie was standing on a fence, looking out over the orchards. The others did the same, and they saw what he was watching.

There was the girl in the photograph. She was riding bareback on a black Morgan horse, the animal running through the orchard. She held not reins but hair from the horse's mane. She rode like it was second nature, part of her very being. It was a graceful and beautiful scene.

"There's Meg," Reggie said quietly, watching intently; "Good at it, ain't she?"

"Yes, she is," Jean said; "Um, Reggie, why is her hair white?"

Reggie shrugged; "It's really a pale blonde, ma'am," he said, looking at Jean; "She was born with it that color. She used to dye her hair, though. Can't really blame her," he said, looking back at the rider and her steed.

"She's awfully pale, too," Kitty murmured; "Is she albino?" she whispered to Kurt, who shrugged.

"No, she eez not pale enough," he replied.

"HEY MEG!" Reggie suddenly shouted, startling the four mutants. "PEOPLE'RE HERE TO SEE YA!"

Meg drew the horse around and it slowed to a trot as she looked up at the hill where Reggie was, and he waved at her. But he stopped and lost his smile when he saw how uneasy she suddenly seemed. He looked at the four for a moment, then he shouted back to Meg again.

"COME ON UP!"

Meg waved and she rode the horse up towards them. Reggie hopped down from the fence and said; "Foller me, we'll wait on the porch."

* * *

Xavier, Ororo, Reggie and the four students sat with Meg's immediate male family member, her father and grandfather. Her father, Matthias DeBonte, sat stone silent as he thought about the Professor's proposal.

Meg's grandfather, Ulysses "Mule", was pondering it as well.

"I just don't see why you've come to _us_," Ulysses said in his deep southern drawl; "I mean, Meg ain't got nothin' wrong wit' her! Sure she's a bit paler, a little smarter, but that ain't reason to qualify her 's mutated!"

"Sir, with all do respect, I feel that my institute is perfect for your daughter," Xavier said.

"And yes, we believe that she has powers… greater than human expectations," Ororo added; "Please, may we simply have a moment to speak with her?"

"Well, she was ridin' a while back," Matthias said; "Whenever she comes up though, you can."

And yet, as if on cue, Meg walked up to the porch, putting her long hair up into a ponytail. She looked around at the crowd gathered there, and said; "Da', what's goin' on?"

"Meg, these people here are from the Charles Xavier Institute for Gifted Children," Matthias said; "They say that you _qualify_ for a place there."

"Chicken Fluff, there somethin' you wanna tell us?" Mule asked worriedly, his dark eyes shining with worry.

Meg looked around at the group nervously; "I… well, ya see…" she stammered, ringing her hands together as her eyes fell on her father; "Things have been… happ'nin', da…"

"_Things_?" Matthias asked.

Meg nodded; "I… I think I can go from on place to the other, ya know, like in the movies, when someone teleports? I… it happened last night," her eyes fell on Jean, and she said quietly; "Sorry I startled ya."

"It's okay," Jean said with a smile.

"Meg, I am Charles Xavier," Xavier said, holding out a hand. Meg shook it with a small incline of her head and a smile; "I believe that I could help you."

"Help me? How?" she asked.

"Well, I run a school specifically for children with abilities unusual for to the human race. Now, you would attend a public school, but you would live at the institute and have additional training and small sessions that could teach you how to control and perfect your powers, and when necessary how to use them for the greater good. I am asking if you would please come, at least for a trial semester."

Meg nodded, then looked at her father and grandfather; "Da, papa, what d'ya think?" she asked.

Matthias shrugged, and Mule said; "This 's got nothin' t' do wit' us, Meg," he said; "This be _yur_ decision."

* * *

Five minutes later, Meg found herself up in her room, packing her things. She put her clothing, journal, and papers of sheet music into a duffel bag, and with slight difficulty, zipped it up. She pulled out another bag and put her toiletries and hygienic items in it. With a sigh, she then picked up an old cloth doll, about three feet long, and sat down on her bed. She traced the circle where a black button eye should have been, and laughed at the memory of how it had gone missing. The doll was the first toy she ever received as a child, and she slept with it often. With a sigh, Meg got up and put it in a bag. She then pulled the handmade quilt from her bed, taking a moment to look at the stitching.

Now that she thought about it, she had never really left the small town, or the farm. She had been born in the room next door, for crying out loud! How could she be leaving it all behind? She loved this place; she loved the mountains, the seasons, everything about it because it was _home_.

A small tap near the door brought Meg from her thoughts. She turned and saw Reggie standing in the doorway, with a poignant look on his face, one of confusion and bitter sweetness, a hope that what was happening wasn't happening at all.

"So, yur goin', huh," he said quietly, more to himself than to her. He walked in, and Meg saw he had something held behind his back; "What wur those Yankees talkin' 'bout, some 'school fer the gifted' 'n' all that?"

Meg sighed; "I… I got problems, Reg'," she said quietly, looking at him.

"Here, lemme help," Reggie said as he put whatever it was he was holding in his back pocket. He smiled to her, though she didn't by it, as he took one end of the quilt.

Meg smiled slightly, and as they folded the quilt, she explained; "Stuff's bin happ'nin' lately to me," she said, "An'… the man in the chair thanks he kin help me."

Reggie nodded; "What kinda problems?" he asked curiously.

"Weird ones," Meg said. She took the newly folded blanket from her best friend, and put it away, taking the doll away to place it on top.

"Don't forget yur pillow," Reggie said, handing her the afore mentioned object. He let go of it reluctantly as she took it, knowing that that was that, she was going.

Meg took the pillow in silence, and put it on top of the doll. She then zipped the bag up, and sighed; "Reggie, I'll prob'ly be back 'fore the apple harvest," she said, looking at him.

"That's a good three months away," Reggie said; "Just… just don't lose yur accent, okay?" he asked, laughing quietly.

Meg smiled and giggled; "Don't wurry, I won'," she said.

Reggie smiled too, then he reached back behind him; "Here, I wanted to give ya somethin'."

He drew his hand from behind his back, and Meg saw he held a simple playing card in his hand. But when she realized it was form his special deck, where the backs of the cards had angels on them, not mermaids or dogs playing poker like the ones sold in the convenience store on Main. He handed it to her, and she took it.

Flipping it over, she saw it was the jack of spades. Looking at Reggie with a confused expression, she asked; "What's this for?"

Reggie gave her an uncertain grin; "Well," he replied; "Whenever you meet new people, remember the Ole Jack Pack that's waitin' for ya down here."

Meg smiled, tears in her eyes. Without a word she hugged Reggie, and he let out an inaudible sigh as he returned the embrace.

* * *

The inhabitants of the mansion arrived home close to sundown. Ray came through the doors laughing, being closely chased by Amara. He had stolen her flip-flops on the beach without her knowing, and once they had left she had freaked out and when they went back to the beach, they started searching and Ray, Roberto, and Sam went out surfing for an extra twenty minutes. Ray only told Amara the news that he had had her shoes the entire time once he had gotten out of the car and was close to the institute's doors, and she had then screamed in outrage and proceeded to chase him.

Now Ray was running and slipping on the marble floors as he ran down the hallways, Amara chasing him with vigor. He finally ran into a room and closed the door behind him. He leaned against it and breathed a sigh of relief, but jumped back when the door suddenly became hotter than fire. He shouted and instinctively began patting his back to rid himself of the burning sensation, but too late he realized Amara had kicked the door open and had lunged. She tackled him and brought him down, and then began hitting him on his chest, shoulders, and Ray knew he would have at least one bruise.

"You stupid jerk!" she shrieked, "You must be sick and twisted to think that was funny!"

"Hey, it bought me 'n' the – jeez! - guys some surf - ow! Watch it! - time!" Ray said, pushing the girl off of him with a laugh and a smirk; "It was all in good fun!"

"We were searching for over an hour!" Amara said as she got up. She stomped her foot; "You're hopeless!"

Ray just shook his head as she stormed out, then got up and went to his room. He started to undress, when he heard the chime signaling that someone was at the door. When the chime sounded again, Ray rolled his eyes, quickly put on a fresh pair of boxers and shorts. He grabbed a white wife beater, and was on his way to the front door. Swinging the article of clothing around, he opened the door.

Ororo was standing there with a girl, and the woman was not pleased. But Ray was staring at the stranger. With bright blue eyes, pale, fair skin and wavy hair almost as white as Ororo's, Ray thought he was staring at an angel, or a ghost, he couldn't decide. She smiled and he saw she had a dimple in her left cheek. But she was so familiar.

Then it hit him. The stranger was the ghost that had gone through him.

"Uh, uh," Ray stammered, quickly putting on the beater; "Sorry, ma'am," he said with a bashful grin.

Ororo rolled her eyes; "Well, Ray, now that you've rejoined the living," she commented with a small smile; "Please help our newest guest with her things."

"Uh, sure!" Ray said, slipping past the two and heading for the elegant car with Meg's things in the trunk. Logan was there, unloading the bags, and he glanced at Ray before shaking his head.

"What?" Ray asked, and Logan chuckled.

"This is gonna be interesting," was all he said as he picked up three bags and began to haul them off.

Ray looked at what was left; a small shoulder back, a backpack, and a…_guitar_ _case_? _Sweet_! Ray thought as he grabbed the bags. He went up to the house, to see that no one was in the foyer. Not knowing where to go, he sighed and climbed the stairs, heading down the left hallway in hopes that she would be rooming with Amara, or Jubilee.

He was right when he thought the girl was rooming with Amara. Ororo was explaining the rules of the institute, and as Ray entered the room he rolled his eyes, having heard the rules countless times.

"… And the bathroom is down the hallway. You may use it at any time, provided no one else is," Ororo said, bearing the same calm, loving smile she always seemed to have.

The girl smiled; "Thank-you, ma'am," she said.

Ray noted how thick her accent was. _Where was she from, Alabama?_ He thought.

Ororo turned; "Ah, Ray, sorry I didn't introduce you at the door;" she said; "Ray, this is Meg DeBonte. Meg, this is Ray Crisp."

"Hi," Ray said, waving once as he turned to leave.

"Um, perhaps you'd like to show her around?" Ororo asked.

"Oh, I will, ma'am!" Amara said.

Ray turned. He hadn't noticed Amara had been in the room. "Amara could," he said.

Ororo crossed her arms and gave him a look that said "I asked you to do something" and he felt guilty. But he really didn't feel like playing host to a person who had gone _through_ him.

"How about you both show her around?" Ororo said, walking past him and leaving the room.

"Rude!" Amara said, walking over and cuffing him on the head.

"Hey!" Ray whined, rubbing the spot where Amara had stuck; "Abusive!"

He looked over at Meg as she laughed, the sound seeming to have a pleasant, airy sound of ease; "Y'all're funny!" she said, smiling.

"Well, someone's gotta put this guy in his place!" Amara said, laughing; "Come on, I'll show you around!" she ran to Meg, took the girl's hand, then as she rushed out she grabbed Ray by the front of his beater and dragged him along too.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N: **come on people, **please **review! i wanna know how this story is going. it will only take a few seconds, and i love critism, I'm serious! 


	3. Hot Pockets in the Summer Sun

**Like Waiting on Your Train to Come**

Chapter Three: Hot Pockets in the Summer Sun

Summers seemed the best time for a chance a new start. It was like New Year's Day all over again, only it was now extended to about three months. June rolled by with its gentle breezes, July brought festivities, and by August, well, school's grotesque shadow loomed in the distance. But it was still summer, and that was what Ray was focusing on.

_Summer_. The word rolled gratefully over the tongue and was said with a sigh.

Now, he lay next to the half-pike he and Evan Daniels had built in the behind the Mansion and off to the side, behind a bunch of trees. He had set up a sound system so he could have music while he skated. But he had his back on the grass, his eyes on the sky, skateboard balanced on his knees. He sometimes just watched the sky, finding piece in the rolling hills pf white. They never stopped to watch him, never stopped to even look, but that was how it was. That's how it always was.

Ray got up, kicking his board into the air and catching it as he jumped up. He walked up to the pike again, and was about to start skating when he heard someone approaching. Pulling a remote from his back pocket, he pointed it towards a boom box with impressive speakers, and the loud music blasted. With a smirk Ray started to skate, intent on showing off for the hell of it, and he only stopped when the music did.

Ray jumped off his board, watching as it continued up the pike and went into the air, only to have gravity drag it to the ground. Ray looked over and saw Meg standing next to the sound system, watching him with a smile.

"Yur a typical punk, ain't ya?" she asked as she walked over and picked up Ray's skateboard.

"Isn't typical if it's all you are," Ray said as he sat down on the wooden structure.

Meg walked over and handed him his board; "You're pretty good at that," she said, pointing at it.

"Oh, yeah, I guess," Ray said, looking up at her and squinting for the sun was in his eyes; "watcha up to?" he asked, standing.

Meg shrugged; "Gettin' lost," she said with an embarrassed laughed; "Over two months 'n' I still can' find mah way 'round."

Ray smiled. He had grown fond of her accent, and it amused him; "It isn't that big, is it?" he asked, looking at the mansion for a moment before looking at Meg again.

Again, that innocent shrug; "Compared to what I'm used to, yeah," she replied.

Ray nodded; "Yeah, but the place grows on ya. Hey!" he suddenly said; "I was thinkin' on makin' some hot pockets. Want any?"

"Sure, but… what's a hot pocket?" Meg asked.

Ray's jaw dropped.

"You don't know what a _hot pocket_ is?" he asked incredulously, and Meg shook her head slowly; "No way! Holy crap, you don't know what a hot pocket is!" Ray said again, looking wildly at the world around them for a moment before looking at Meg again. "Come on, lemme educate you!"

Without realizing he took Meg's hand in one of his and with his board in the other he rushed off to the mansion, Meg in his wake. He burst through the kitchen, letting Meg go and throwing his skateboard unceremoniously onto the floor. Meg laughed quietly, hand over mouth to hide her smile, as she sat down at the table and watched Ray head for the freezer.

Ray opened up the freezer, and gazed at the shelf full of his favorite food. He pulled out a box, and as he shut the door with his foot, he ripped the box open and tossed a hot pocket over to Meg. The Southerner almost missed it, but fumbled and picked it up off the table.

"This is it?" she asked, shaking the small pastry-looking thing in its plastic wrapper with a skeptical look.

"_It_? That, my friend, is a staple in my diet!" Ray said as he opened up the plastic and pulled the hot pocket out; "Here, toss me yours and I'll heat it up!"

Meg did, and Ray unwrapped it before putting both of the hot pockets into the microwave. Hitting the large 5 button, he then cast a smile at Meg.

"I bet you'll like this," he said; "They're awesome."

Meg giggled; "Can always try somethin' once," she said as she got up; "I'm purdy spoiled though when it comes t' food."

"Oh really now?" Ray asked airily as he sat on the counter, glancing at the microwave anxiously. But e then kept his eyes on the girl before him.

"Well yeah, mom's cooked nearly ever' meal I've ever eatin'," Meg said; "Just spoiled like that, I guess," she said with a grin as she sat on the opposite counter.

"Lucky, more like," Ray muttered, but Meg heard.

"Wha'd'ya mean by that?" she asked warily, getting off the counter and walking over.

"Noth—" Ray began, but the microwave beeped, annoyingly clear that the hot pockets were done. Ray pulled them out, got down, and handed one out to Meg. She reached for it, but he pulled it away a little, saying; "You wanna know?"

"Well yeah, we're gonna be livin' under the same roof, ain't we?" Meg asked, and with a quick grab, she took the hot pocket from Ray's hand.

Ray smirked, and then walked over to the fridge. He pulled out two sodas, and said; "Follow me."

Meg nodded, and Ray handed her a soda. They walked out of the kitchen in silence, through the foyer and up the stairs. Meg was picking at the flaking corners of the pastry, and Ray glanced back at her with a small smirk. She really was as innocent as they came. But on the other hand, she wasn't. Ray knew she was tough, she relied more on intuition than on her brain, and she could take a hit without flinching in the Danger Room. He was sure he could trust her with his past. He had only told three other people on his own accord: Sam, Amara, and Roberto. They hadn't ever told anybody, so would Meg?

He decided he'd take a chance.

"Follow me," he said, taking the right hallway.

Meg followed him silently, wondering why they hadn't gone down the left hallway, to the student's wing. Ray led her down the hallway, took a right, another right, and Meg found herself in the far wing of the institute.

Ray looked at her as he stopped outside of a door, and then opened it, only to reveal a regular looking office. On the far side, it had windows from floor to ceiling, and then two sliding glass doors. The room was otherwise cluttered, dusty, unused, so very neglected. Ray made his way through the boxes and piles of objects, and as Meg followed she realized that there was a sort of path through the heaps of things. Ray opened the sliding doors and walked out onto a balcony, and Meg followed.

"Not done yet," Ray said when Meg started to sit on a chair.

He walked over to the railing. Stuffing his drink in one pocket and his hot pocket in another, Ray then looked at the roof a good seven feet above him, and held out his hands. Meg watched as electricity began to course up and down Ray's hands and arms, and saw how his eyes turned a vibrant blue. Suddenly, like ropes, electric coils shot form his finger tips, and Ray's feet leftr the ground as he was pulled up to the roof.

He went into the air as the coils disappeared ,and landed on the roof. Letting out a triumphant shout, he then looked over the edge, down at Meg; "Come on!" he shouted, smiling.

Meg walked over to look up at him; "How d'ya expect me t' do that?" she asked, hands akimbo.

"Remember _why you're here exactly_," Ray said knowingly.

Meg rolled her eyes; "Fine," she said; "I hate this."

She closed her eye, held her things to her chest, and then Ray watched her evaporate into a fine mist. He waited, but after a few seconds he became anxious. But the breeze picked up around him and as Ray whipped around he saw Meg materialize, having a coughing fit. Ray went over to her and took her things, and Meg waved her hands in front of her face, as if it would make the coughing subside.

"That was insane!" Ray said with a child like grin; "What's it like?"

Meg stopped coughing, and took her soda. She drank a little, then wiped her mouth; "Like being sucked into space," she replied; "There ain't no air, I can't breathe whenever I do it, and I feel like I'm spread out all over;" she paused, and looked around; "So, anyone else come up here?"

"Nah, just me," Ray said, sitting down. Meg did the same; "But, you get a great view of the cove."

Meg followed his gaze, and nodded. There was an amazing view over the cliffs, where the cove was. She could only imagine the amazing sunsets, the solitary chance to think freely and without disruption.

"So, wha'd'ya mean by what ya said earlier?" Meg asked as she bit into her hot pocket, looking at Ray.

Ray shrugged; "It would take a while to explain."

"Where've I gotta go, what've I gotta do?" Meg asked, smiling; "I like stories."

"This one isn't a good one," Ray said.

"What's like a fairytale in reality, though?" Meg retorted, and Ray stopped to think. She had a point.

"Well, I guess I should start by describing my dad. Never really knew him, he died while working for the government, supposedly," he paused; "But… I remember he could play the guitar so good, man, like… Hendrix or somebody! He left me his Les Paul…"

"A Les Paul? Wow," Meg said; "Sorry, keep goin'."

Ray smirked at her enthusiasm, and then continued; "But, after he died, my mom had to find someone to support us. She never finished school, so jobs were limited. She met this guy, Bernie… Bernie Anderson," his hands became a fist as anger overcame him for a moment; "He was a lawyer."

"Guess yur mama found the right support, then," Meg said.

Ray snorted; "Sure, maybe money wise," he said; "The guy drank… a lot. Come home, he was wasted. Leave for work, had his flask in his hand… I put up with him for… three years, I think. Yeah, three," he nodded with memory; "I was what you would call a latchkey kid. Come home from school to an empty home. Mom always had it in her to work, and she did. She was a hard worker, came home with raises form under the table a lot because she would pull her weight and someone else's," he smiled as he thought of his mother; "But… She would sometimes stay out all night, leave me alone with good ole Bernie…" he looked at Meg; "he would beat me, man he would lay into me," he looked away, shaking his head wistfully; "If he lost a case, it was 'kick-the-bastard-child' time again… And one day, I snapped…"

Meg stared at Ray; "Snapped?"

"Yeah," Ray said; "When my powers first came around. Man, I made the papers an' everything. 'Eight Year Old Survives Explosion'," he had held his hands up and spread them apart, as if showing a headline. But his hands fell dejectedly.

"Explosion, huh?" Meg said, turning so that she was facing Ray; "Well c'mon! What happened next?"

Ray looked at her, silent. He looked weary, raw and wrong. She realized that the story was not going to end well. He looked away, shaking his head; "He was… always calling me a bastard child," he said solemnly, "Like… my parents never were married. But they were… but then again, I wasn't his kid. Why not beat me? That's all I was good for to him, a way to let off steam… but, one day when he had chased me into the living room, I chucked a phone at him. But, my body took the electricity from the power cord, and then the phone became charged and when it hit Bernie…"

"The electricity traveled back through the phone, into the wires outside, and exploded, right?" Meg finished quickly.

Ray looked at her; "Yeah, that's what happened," he said; "How'd you…?"

"I analyze a lot," Meg said quietly, quickly, looking away as if embarrassed.

"Nothin' wrong with that," Ray said; "But yeah, after that, I found myself in the debris. I knew that if they found me there, I would get blamed. So I ran and hid in the cellar. A police officer found me huddled under a metal table…"

"What about your mom?" Meg asked.

Ray shrugged; "she uh, she split," He said finally, seeming to have trouble with admitting that; "I guess she saw the evening news and was like 'Hell no, can't go back'," he laughed dryly, half-heartedly, "I was in an' out of foster homes ever since. I was even in London at one point," he said, but he waved his had; "But now I'm here."

"How many?"

"_How many_ what?"

"Foster homes," Meg said quietly, "How many?"

"Including here? Eleven," Ray said. He lay down on his side, facing Meg with his head propped up on one hand; "So there you have it," he said, "My life in a nutshell."

Meg nodded, and she scooted closer; "Why do I feel like… I should feel special for hearing this?"

Ray shrugged, "Dunno about feeling special," he said; "But… you're only the… fourth person who knows my story because _I_ told them."

"Oh," Meg said, nodding as she thought.

Ray nodded to, laying on his back to watch the clouds roll over them. He had a certain fascination with clouds, and storms. He had a fascination with the sky, what it held, what was behind it. If there was a heaven, if there really were aliens… a lot of pointless questions a ten year old would ask.

Meg scooted over ever closer, "Sit up for a sec," she said quietly.

Ray looked at her, but did as he was told. Meg wrapped her arms around him, drawing him into an embrace. Ray was surprised by the action, at first he needed to remember what it was she was doing. But then he realized that she was hugging him. Ray closed her eyes and wrapped an arm around her slim figure, feeling her breath on his ear as she whispered to him in a convicted voice.

"I am here for you," she whispered clearly; "Please, understand that, Ray. Don't make another place numbah twelve…"

Ray smiled, turning his head to her neck so he could whisper; "I guess that depends on how things work out here…"

Meg rested her forehead on his shoulder; "I really like you, Ray," she said; "But if you fuck up, I'll make sure you'll pay myself…"

Ray chuckled. Meg never really cursed; it sounded strange coming out of her mouth, and with her accent. "The last thing I need is another enemy," he said jokingly, and Meg giggled.

They parted, and Ray stared at Meg while she retrieved her soda. IN the sun, her hair seemed almost golden, like homespun silk. He had felt it on his skin; her hair was soft to the touch. She looked back at him and smiled, and he saw her cheeks flush with a light pink.

"What?" she asked, giggling and smiling fully.

"Nothing," Ray said as he smiled back; "Just… thinking…"

"Uh-oh, I better get goin', then!" Meg said jokingly, and as she giggled, Ray chuckled. "But what're ya thinkin'?" she asked him curiously.

Ray shrugged, and kept silent. "Well that tells me a heck of a lotta nuthin'," she said; "Come on, you can tell me!"

Ray's smile seemed to be glued to his face. She was just so… innocent, sweet, and caring. "Just wonderin' to myself if you had a boyfriend or not," he said quietly.

Meg's smile faded. She was surprised he had asked that. "Uh… no, I don'," Meg said, "Why?"

Ray shrugged; "Just… wonderin'." Was all he said; "Hey, the fair's comin' up. A couple of us were plannin' on going. You're coming, right?"

Meg smiled; "Sure," she said; "I could use a taste of home."

* * *

Music played from megaphones on high poles. Rides clicked and groaned, people screamed and laughed and talked over the din. The smell of smoke, cotton candy and hotdogs lingered in the air like a lingering haze. Crowds were everywhere, lines twisted and turned like snakes. Children ran wild and teens ran ramped; adults were hanging around the bathrooms and benches. Mothers kept track of their broods, and fathers talked amongst each other about the upcoming football season. The August sunset was clean and the clouds were few and sparsely placed in the sky. It was warm, but not unbearably humid.

Ah, the fair.

Ray, Roberto, Sam, Amara, Jubilee, Bobby, and Meg stood together, waiting on a ride. Ray couldn't help but look Meg over. She was wearing a torn up short skirt, a black shirt with the word "FREEDOM" written on it in scribbled text, and flip-flops. She had an anklet on, with guitars hanging off of it. She was wearing her hair down; it fell past her shoulders, wavy lengths of creamy silk. Jubilee and Amara had done Meg's make-up; her eyeliner made her eyes stand out like watery blue orbs.

Ray had to pull his shirt back from his neck. Was it a hot evening or was it him? It was the evening, for sure, he told himself.

Right now, she was smiling at Roberto shyly as he was talking to her. He was getting too close to Meg, at least as of late he had been. Ray was listening to Jubilee and Bobby and Sam, or he was acting like it. But he was watching Meg out of the corner of his eye. He felt his heart swell with a feeling he'd never felt… was this what a crush was like?

He wanted to walk over and kiss her, wanted to make her laugh, and wanted her to smile, all at the same time. He wanted the world for her, wanted their own worlds to collide and blend. He wanted her to himself…

"Ray? Ray! You listening?"

Ray came back to reality, and saw Jubilee looking at him impatiently; "Yeah, why?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes before continuing.

Meg and Roberto walked over, and Meg nudged Ray; "Hey," she said, that same shy smile on her face.

Ray smirked at her; "Hey," he said.

From behind Meg, Ray saw Roberto wink at him, before walking over and surprising Amara.

"Wanna go catch another ride?" Meg asked, "This line's way too long."

Ray shrugged; "Hmmm what's wrong with waiting?" he asked coyly.

"It gets boring," Meg said, "C'mon, let's go ride the Cyclops, or the Farris wheel or somethin'!"

Ray smiled; "Okay," he said, "Hey, Sam," he said, patting his roommate on the shoulder. Sam whipped around; "Me 'n' Meg're gonna ride somethin' else. You and Amara wanna come?"

Same shook his head; "We're good, man," he said, with a sly smirk; "Stay safe!"

"Yeah sleep with one eye open!" Ray called over his shoulder as he and Meg walked away form the group.

"What'd he mean by that?" Meg asked.

"Oh, guy stuff, no big," Ray said quickly, thinking quick on the spot.

"Oh," Meg said, though she didn't believe him; "So…"

"So…" Ray said. _Great, awkward moment_, he thought; "Wanna play twenty questions?"

"How do you play?" Meg asked, shy smile back again.

"Well, I ask a question, then you answer it, and then you as me a question, and I answer it," he explained; "It's really simple. It's one of those 'get to know a person better' games."

"Can I go first?" Meg asked, and Ray nodded; "Okay," she said, clapping her hands together; "What's yur favorite color?"

"Easy, red," Ray said; "Okay, my turn… who's your favorite band?"

"Prolly Nirvana," Meg said; "Who's yur favorite band?"

"The Sex Pistols," Ray replied; "Can you play the guitar?"

"Yeah, can you?"

"Yeah, are you good at it?"

"I dunno, you'd have to listen in one day," Meg said; "Can you play purdy good?"

"Dunno, you'd have to listen in one day," Ray replied, looking at Meg as he used her answer. She was looking at him with a big grin.

"Thief, now I get t' ask you two questions extra for that!" Meg said, laughing.

"Hey, that's not how it works!" Ray said, and he shoved her ever so lightly on the shoulder.

Meg shoved back, then without warning she shot off into the crowd. Ray laughed and followed her, if anything watching for her flowing hair. She ran into the livestock arena, and Ray caught up with her just out side of there.

"Gotcha!" he said, catching her in an alley between two of the arenas. He had her against the wall, and she was looking up at him expectantly.

"Oh, ya caught me!" she gasped dramatically, the back of her hand against her forehead; "Whatever will I do now?"

Ray laughed quietly, taking her hand in his and bringing it down; "Like I would ever hurt you," he whispered, leaning in so close that their noses were almost touching.

Their eyes locked, and Meg seemed to get lost in the brown eyes that stared so determinedly into hers. She could see flecks of amber and gold, Ray's eyes were so beautiful.

"Just kiss me, already," She whispered.

Ray smiled, then he obeyed.

Their eyes closed and Ray's lips met hers. It was chaste at first, but then Ray pressed himself against her, bringing her hands to his shoulders before lowering his to her hips. His tongue graced her lip and her rose lips opened for him. He moved impossibly closer, and Meg let out a small moan into the kiss, her hands running up his neck, fisting into his hair, pulling it from its gelly hold.

Before things became too heated, Ray broke the kiss, pulling his head back slightly to take in a gulp of air. Meg did the same, leaning her head back against the wall. They both made eye contact and laughed quietly to themselves, Ray leaning his forehead against Meg's.

"You know how long I've wanted that?" he asked her quietly.

"Long enough?" Meg quipped.

Ray smiled, "Since the minute I found out you were the chick who walked through me."

Meg laughed quietly again; "I am still so embarrassed by that!" she said.

Her hands traveled to rest against Ray's chest, and she held the necklace her wore in her hands for a moment. It was a cross with a figure behind it, as if holding it but not carrying it. The figure had no face, only the general shape of a person. She let the pendant fall and looked up at Ray.

"What does this make us, Ray?" she asked, brushing an orange lock of hair form his face.

Ray shrugged that innocent boyhood shrug of his broadening shoulders Meg died for every time. "Together, I hope," he said.

Meg smiled; "Well d'uh," she retorted quietly, kissing the tip of his nose; "Uh… weren't we gonna try to catch a ride?"

Ray looked up at the sky, how it was dark now and the stars twinkling mischievously above them. Had the night gone by so fast? _It must be close to leaving time_, he thought, and then he looked at Meg.

"We might want to try an' track everybody down," he said.

"Oh pooh," Meg whined; "I like it here…"

"Oh, I do to, but we better, ya know?" he backed away, offering his hand to her. Meg took it and gracefully stepped from the wall, smiling elegantly.

They walked back to the front gates, finishing up their round of twenty questions, their hands connected, and fingers intertwined. Ray had never felt more at peace, he felt comfortable. His walls were down for once. Meg made him smile without saying anything; she made him laugh with every little quirk. It was nice, trusting someone.

But when they caught sight of a few members of the X-Men, they hands parted at the same time, it seemed. Neither was sure which had let go first, but it didn't matter. They had let go quick enough to where no one seemed to notice. Or care, at least. While Meg climbed into the back of the X-Van, Ray sped away on his motor bike.

But he wasn't going home so soon.

Instead of taking the interstate to reach Bayville, Ray instead took a dirt road he knew would lead to a subdivision, though a little neglected. It had been built in the fifties, and though it was inhabited, most that lived in the neighborhood were not the best of characters. But there were some good people there, and luckily they lived on the outskirts. Ray found himself parking outside and Old English tutor. The oak tree in the front yard, probably two-hundred years older than the house, was near death, but other than that, the house seemed welcoming. The front lights were on, and Ray tucked his helmet under his arm as his shadow graced the sidewalk, and his boots met the front steps.

He knocked on the door, standing just shy of the light until it opened. A homely woman in her mid-forties answered his knock, her brown hair in a messy bun, a paintbrush stabbed through it. She smiled at Ray, and he smiled back.

"Can I borrow Nate for a sec, Ma'am?" he asked politely.

The woman smiled; "Of course, Ray. Hang on," she turned around, and hollered; "NATE! RAY'S HERE!"

She turned to Ray and smiled again; "He's on his way down."

While the woman departed, Ray heard a stampede coming from the second floor and down the stairs. A brown haired teen came to the door, wearing nothing but pajama bottoms.

"Dude, what's up, man? What's got ya comin' out here at ten?" the teen asked as he shook hands with Ray.

"Big news, Nate, _Huge_," Ray said; "Guess what happened to me last night?"

Nate's eyes grew wide; "You got _laid_?" he asked in a hushed, excited whisper.

"No!" Ray said, shoving his friend in the shoulder; "I think I got a girl now, man."

"No way, seriously?" Nate asked; "Whoa wait, how will this go with the band?" he asked; "Wait, wait, _wait_, now I remember!" he snapped his fingers; "WE all swore no girls until the whole band thing was good as stone!"

"Are _you_ stoned?" Ray asked skeptically.

"No!" Nate said; "Well, a little," he stammered; "But that's not the point! Dude, think about the commitment you've just signed up for! Dude," he said again, miserably as his shoulders slumped and his arms hung at his side.

"Man, I came here hopin' you'd wanna _celebrate_," Ray said, beginning to turn away; "But, if you don't wanna be supportive…"

As he walked down the first step, Nate came up and grabbed his shoulder. Leaning against his friend, he said; "Gimme five, 'K?"

Ray smirked as he nodded, and Nate pushed away and ran into the house. He could smell the pot and booze on Nate's breath. He planned on taking his friend to the local burger joint, not off to some cliff or point to get wasted or blazed. Even though it was tempting… But, he had decided to stop. And Nate was out of it. Ray had planned on talking with him about Meg, but taking care of Nate's current incarceration of the mind was first and for most.

Nate came out of the house, pulling a toboggan on his head and bringing out his helmet; "We ride 'gether, 'r solo bikes?" he asked quickly, and Ray held up two fingers.

"Sweet!" Nate said in a high pitched voice as he darted off to get his bike. Ray shook his head and walked to his own, getting on and waiting for Nate to speed out of the garage.

* * *

Two hours later, Ray and Nate arrived back at Nate's house. Nate was soberer now, and Ray had talked it out with him about his promising relationship. Though Nate was thinking about the band and the other guys, he agreed that Ray needed a girlfriend and that it would be 'good for everybody in the end'.

Okay, so he might have been a little half-baked. But just a little.

Ray watched from the corner as Nate went into his home, and then sighed. He was about to leave when he heard heavy boots walking along the pavement. Whipping around, he saw someone heading his way, head bent under the street light. But Ray knew who it was.

"Hey, 'dad'…"

"Don't call me that," came the gruff warning as Logan raised his head, walking up to Ray; "So, this what ya bin doin', watchin' after friends?"

Ray shrugged; "Yeah," he said; "So, you gonna make me re-shingle the west wing again?"

"Hey, I could turn you in for not bein'; home," Logan said, poking the boy's chest. The force sent Ray back a step; "But Meg covered for ya. I knew you didn't come in with the others, couldn't smell ya," he paused; "At least, not in the _open_ _air_."

Ray remained apathetic, though his heart was racing. He felt that Logan could sense that too, possibly even hear his racing heart, but he shoved the thought to the back of his mind.

"But anyway, I just came to check up on ya, anyway," Logan said; "Can't have you wonderin' off and killin' yerself, at least."

"You were worried!" Ray said in a childish voice, smiling like one as well.

"Hell yeah, I was," Logan said; "I'm your guardian, Ray, I gotta be worried 'r else yur ass could wind up in another home! Speakin' of which, c'mon. I got the X-Van, you get to ride home with '_dear old dad_'," the last he said as he spun around on his heel and began to walk away, laughing quietly to himself for he knew the look on Ray's face was one of "What the heck now I can't use that joke anymore".

Ray hung his head for a moment, then got his bike and followed Logan.

****

* * *

TBC

* * *

a/n: ok plz plz review if you make it to the end of thsi chapter. plz. 


	4. Stole Your Thunder? Have Some Lightening

**Like Waiting on Your Train to Come**

Chapter Four: Stole Your Thunder? Have Some Lightening 

Ray woke up the next morning hanging over the side of his bed. Looking around, he saw that Sam had already come and gone, by the looks of fresh clothes on the floor and a still messy bed. Ray sat up, and changed out of his shirt, replacing it with a new one. He got up and walked downstairs. The smell of a hot pocket wafting through the air had Ray running for the kitchen. He really was addicted to those things.

Rounding the corner and entering the kitchen Ray stopped and smiled when he saw Meg pulling a hot pocket out of the microwave. She was singing, her soft, reedy voice carrying throughout the room. It sounded like an old song, a mountain song. She had not noticed Ray standing in the doorway, and soon she had her back turned to him as she pulled a dull knife from the silverware drawer, intent on cutting the hot pocket in half.

Ray walked into the kitchen, his steps silent, light as air. He spread his arms out, and as he stepped behind Meg, he slowly wrapped his arms around her waste. She gasped with surprise, the knife momentarily falling form her hands.

"Shh, don't stop singing," Ray whispered into her neck.

Meg smiled, and quietly picked up the song again. Ray closed his eyes, listening to the tail of heartache and war and loss. It really was a sad song, but the beat and the way it was sung made the hurt lessen. Ray gently kissed Meg's earlobe, moving to her cheek. Meg giggled and the song was forgotten as she turned and her lips met Ray's. Soon, even the hot pocket was forgotten.

"Wait," Meg said suddenly, after separating; "Ray, Ah think we're goin' too fast…"

Ray looked at her expectantly; "Why?" he asked quietly.

Meg sighed; "It just… feels like we are," she explained; "I mean, at the rate we're goin'…" she looked away as her voice trailed off.

"I get it," Ray said, and she looked at him with a small smile.

* * *

The alarm beeped loudly with no remorse, and Amara leapt form her bed in a startled instant. Gasping until her heart rate slowed and her breathing regulated, she then growled and threw a well-aimed fireball at the clock, melting it. The beeping slowed as the clock melted, and then stopped. Amara groaned; she would have to clean the mess up whenever it dried.

Sighing, she looked over across the room, at the messier side where somewhere under the pile of blankets, lay her roommate, Meg. She was buried to mimic the heat she was accustomed to. The room was kept at a steady fifty-eight, Amara had made sure of that so she didn't overheat at night, but Meg, being so frail and thin and used to heat, was obviously suffering. Amara walked over, and pulled three quilts off the figure before lightly slapping a bare thigh. Meg always wore the skimpiest pajamas.

"Get up, Belle!" She cooed, and Meg rolled over and groaned, hand groping around for a quilt. Amara laughed; "Come one, it's the first day of school!"

"Wha'…?" Meg asked groggily, lifting her head up to look around; "Well I be darned, it is Monday, ain't it?" she asked airily, nonchalantly, as she sat up, rubbing her eyes.

Amara started to laugh, hiding her merriment, or trying to, behind her hand; "Wha'?" Meg asked, and Amara only shook her head as she walked over and began picking out clothes.

Meg eyed her, and then got up. She walked over to the dresser, and stared into the mirror. Her hair was a tangled mess, so unlike how she normally kept it wavy, neat, and knot-free.

She sighed, and gathered her bathing supplies, change of clothes, and hair supplies. She darted out of the room, and stood in the hallway. Wanting to test her control over her ability, she closed her eyes and focused on the bathroom. She held onto her belongings as she felt herself becoming weightless, then the choking sensation of being airborne. She felt her feet touch solid ground, and looked around.

She was in the bathroom.

Meg quickly locked the door and set about getting ready. She quickly showered and got out to dress. Spying a hairdryer, she dried her hair a little, and then put in a special gel that kept the frizz away. She then got her things, and fazed back to her room. On the return she stumbled as she came to, and Amara was lucky to be in the room to catch her.

"Hey, easy!" she said with a chuckle.

"Sorry," Meg said, embarrassed; "Almost over shot it, din' I?" she mused, looking to see she was only a foot shy from the wall.

Amara shrugged; "Still hit your target, didn't you?" she asked with a small smile; "I'm going on to the dining hall for breakfast. You coming?"

"Inna minute," Meg said as she took her eyeliner from its bag.

"Need me to oversee you doing that?" Amara asked jokingly, remembering the first time Meg had attempted to put eyeliner on. She had poked herself in the eye, and for about ten minutes had a second pupil.

"Ah'll be fine!" Meg insisted, and laughing Amara waved and departed.

Meg then turned to the mirror, completely focused, and put on her makeup. Satisfied, she then grabbed her bag, and slipping on her shoes, she darted out of her room and soon was standing at the top of the grand staircase.

The residents of the manor were gathered together, discussing traveling arrangements. Those with driver's licenses stood over at the door, and they were picking people to ride with them.

As Meg walked down the steps, she saw Ray get up from his seat at the bottom step, two helmets under each of his arms. He smiled at her and greeted her as she reached the bottom of the steps, kissing her softly on the cheek.

"Here!" he said excitedly, holding a helmet out to her.

Meg took it slowly, looking at him; "Ah dunno, Ray," she said uneasily, looking the helmet over, "Ah… crotch rockets scare the far outta me," she said with honesty, and Ray laughed.

"Crotch Rocket? _My_ bike? No," he said, "Meg, I'm a safe driver. Trust me on this. Come on, we can stop and get breakfast on the way to school!"

Meg smiled; "Always thinkin' with yur stomach, huh?" she asked as she lightly punched Ray's torso.

Ray feigned pain, gasping and holding his hands to his stomach; "Oh, low blow!" he groaned, and when Meg started to worry, he smiled; "Kidding!" he said, "Come on, gimme one shot, just one. If you don't like it, you can ride in the x-van. Pwease?" he asked innocently, his eyes wide as he held his hands together under his chin.

Meg crumbled under the puppy-dog eyes. She sighed and nodded; "'Kay, but ya only get one shot, got it?"

Ray smiled, and taking her hand he called out to Logan before they left the manor. Ray and Meg went into the garage, Ray shocking the switches so that the lights snapped on and all of the garage doors rose up. Meg saw two motor cycles, a black one she knew to be Logan's, and another, slightly smaller bright blue one with black and silver lightening bolts trailing down the body. Obviously, that one was Ray's.

"Come on!" Ray said excitedly, climbing onto the bike and starting it. He patted the seat behind him, looking at Meg expectantly; "It doesn't bite," he said.

Meg sighed, and then walked over to the bike. Ray kicked the kickstand as she got on, and as he set the bike upright, Meg put her helmet on. Ray did the same, and then revved the engine. Out of fear, Meg wrapped her arms around his waist. Grinning, Ray shot off down the drive. He heard Logan hollering at him, but didn't stop. Soon they were flying through the gates and on down the road. Meg gritted her teeth and shut her eyes, and Ray was suddenly short on breath.

Soon they had reached the school parking lot. Ray took a sharp turn and pulled into a space before another car, and with a confidant air, set the bike on its kickstand and took his helmet off. Meg was still attached to his waste. Laughing he eased out of her grasp, and helped her off.

"See, I was an okay driver," he said.

Meg didn't reply, only motioned for him to turn around. Ray did, and groaned. He'd stolen the wrong space today. Three lettermen were walking towards them, Duncan Matthews at the head of the small pack. Ray stepped in front of Meg protectively.

"Is this what it's always like?" Meg whispered nervously, gripping her shoulder bag.

"Only on bad days," Ray muttered, but he lost all emotion from his face When Duncan stood in front of him.

"You just stole _my_ parking spot, punk," Duncan sneered, popping his knuckles.

But the display of strength and warning did nothing to move Ray. He stared placidly back, "And, you're point?" he asked.

Duncan glared at him; "Move that shitty trash you call a bike outta here, or else."

"Look, _jock_," Ray said, stepping up; "It's the first day, and you're really not givin' this school a good image to new students. So why don't you just step back, let me through, and we can sort this out another time."

Ray took Meg's hand, and as he began to step around Duncan, the other two lettermen cut them off. Duncan stepped between Ray and Meg, his back to Ray.

"Hey, what the—!" Ray started, but the letterman grabbed him and one punched him in the stomach.

"Ray!" Meg began, but as she raised her hand, Duncan took it; "What's a girl like you doin' with a guy like him?"

"What, like Ah'd wanna hang out with a letterman, a jock?" Meg retorted, and she spit on his shoe; "You disgust me," she wrenched her hand out of his grasp, and walked over to Ray. Shoving the jocks away, Ray got up and lunged for Duncan. Meg held him back.

"Mess with Meg again, Matthews, and that precious Sedan of yours is scrap-fucking-metal," Ray said through gritted teeth; "Now get the hell away from my bike."

"What'll you do?" Duncan asked with a laugh.

"He won't have to do a thing, we'll handle it!"

Nate came out of seemingly nowhere, along with three other boys. The all crowded around Ray and Meg; "Step off, Matthews," Nate said, hand going to his back pocket.

Duncan glared at them all; "This isn't finished, Punk," he said; "I'll catch you alone one of these day." And, so saying, he and his minions left.

When they were alone, Nate whooped and whipped around, a wild smile on his face; "What a way to start the new year!" he said; "Ray, man, how'd you piss off the jock huh, huh?"

Ray told them all how it happened, and then got around to something more important; "Guys, this is Meg," he said, "Meg, this is Nate, Adam, Cameron, and Joel, the guys."

A chorus of hellos greeted her and Meg smiled bashfully; "Nice to meet y'all," she said.

"alright, well," Nate said, cocking his toboggan to the side professionally, "Do we storm through the front doors in a giant posse, or quietly make our entrance?"

"Hell, Grand entrance!" Joel said.

"Alright," Ray said, once again taking Meg's hand in his own. He smiled at her as they all began the walk to front doors.

Joel and Cameron kicked the doors open, and the metal slammed against the walls, sending the loud boom echoing down the hallways. Everyone in the main hallway froze for a second, watching as the six walked in. the doors slammed shut, but the group paid it no mind. Meg noticed how the five boys seemed to have an air of control over the crowds. They parted for them, like Moses and the Red Sea. She glanced at Ray but he didn't catch it. He was too busy looking formidable and uncaring, like his four friends. Meg sighed.

"Where's the office?" she asked.

"Oh! Here, I'll take ya to it," Ray said; "See ya later, guys."

They parted from the other four, making their way to the office; "Here it is," Ray said, holding the door open for her.

"Thanks," Meg said, smiling as she walked past him.

Ray stepped into the office and watched as she disappeared through another door. Looking over, he saw Lance Alvers sitting in a chair, looking bored. Their eyes met, and Ray nodded once. Lance did the same: a simple understanding. Ray neither like, nor hated Lance. He'd never fought with him, but never held a conversation. But there was a basic unity between the two. He was on the outside of most social circles, and Ray tried to stay that way as well.

* * *

Five minutes later, Meg stood outside of her first class, alone. Ray had needed to depart, but gave her his locker number and a quick note of his classes just in case she needed anything. Now Meg stared at the letters on the window in the door. CREATIVE WRITING, KOBLER, 114. With a sigh, Meg turned the door knob, and walked in.

The first thing she noticed was the general lack of students her age. Most seemed to be juniors or seniors. Maybe she had enrolled in a bird course? Again she looked around. There was Scott in the back, talking with a friend. At least there was one familiar face.

Meg began to walk over, but the teacher, Adrian Kobler, got up from behind his desk and stopped her; "Are you Meg DeBonte?" he asked, and Meg nodded.

Kobler smiled; "Well, just take a seat. Oh, name's Mr. Kobler," he held out his hand.

"Nice to meetcha," Meg said, shaking his hand.

Meg turned and began to slowly walk towards Scott. He turned to his desk and saw her approach, and his mouth hung open for a moment.

"Meg? What are you doing in this class? It's normally reserved…"

"For juniors 'n' seniors, righ'?" she finished, smiling as she sat down; "Yeah, buh Ah'm in it so Ah guess thing's're different now."

* * *

An hour later, the bell ring, signally the end of the period. Students flooded the hallways as they headed for their next classes. Meg managed to find her locker, but as she was walking to her next class, she was caught up in the mayhem of the packed hallway. In the chaos she ran into someone, dropped her books, and followed them soon after to the floor.

"Uh, I'm really sorry about that!" she said as she rose, but was shoved to the ground again. When she finally looked up, she saw that she had run into a jock, and Duncan was standing right beside him. Her heart sank and she knew her face went white as chalk with fear. She was not up for fighting and Ray was no where in sight.

"Watch it, bitch," The jock said, kicking a book off of his foot.

By now a crowd had gathered. Meg glared, color returning to her face. She was not one to tolerate that kind of talk. In a flash she was up, her hand raised to slap the jock. But as her hand went mobile, Duncan's shot out and grabbed her wrist.

"Learn your place," he growled.

"What, still mad Ray stole yur parkin' spot?" Meg spat, slipping fluidly form his grasp. "Grow up, jerk."

Duncan smirked, stepping closer to her. Meg didn't back down, she in fact stood straighter, prouder, braver, her glare hot and fiery with a burning passion.

"There's a certain hierarchy at this school, so listen close," his breath smelled of cigarettes, hot against her face. "You're new, and a little over confidant. Already you're not fitting in well. I'm top dog, I make the rules. Mess with me or anyone else higher than you, and you're bound to fuck yourself into a corner. But, I'll give you a chance to climb the ladder somewhat," he ran a finger down the side of her face, and Meg swatted it away.

"I'll have to pass," she whispered; "I ain't about to waste myself on a _punk_ like you," so saying, she bent down and picked up her things.

"Punk! Me!" Duncan asked critically; "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Meg whipped her hair back and it smacked Duncan's face. She looked at him, and replied; "Ah'm Meg DeBonte, and I ain't about to take shit from you."

So saying she walked away, the crowd parting for her, Duncan shouting obscenities and threats. She ignored them and kept her head high, ignoring the whispers. In a way, she had just climbed to the top of a new ladder. She had officially become the Queen of Renegades. Meg heard the name pass over her ear and it made her stop for a second. _Queen_? This school was messed up.

But where was her King?

* * *

Ray was in the middle of gym, opting for running around the track instead of weight lifting. Running was not a problem for him; he could run for miles without tiring. It was just part of who he was. Nate was attempting to keep up. But his illegal habit was quickly catching up with him, and he had to stop. Bent over and gasping for air, he fell over into the grass. Ray stopped, turned, and jogged over to his friend. With a laugh he helped Nate up.

"I told ya, man, you've gotta stop with that stuff," Ray sad.

"What…ever man," Nate said between gasps; "You're just… showin' off…" he wiped grass from his clothing; "Hey… look…" he said, pointing.

Ray looked to see a freshman running over to the fence, ushering for them to meet him. It was Zach McPhee, one of Ray's self-proclaimed "informants". He seemed out of breath, and Ray urged him to calm down.

But Zach shook his head; "You missed it, man!" he said, and with excitement he proceeded to relay the events that had occurred. Nate had stumbled up during the middle, but quickly caught on. Ray was angered when he heard what the jock had called Meg, wanted to ditch his class to hunt the boy down, but kept his anger in to hear the rest of the story.

"And the crowd just _parted_ for her, man! It was crazy!" Zach was saying with awe; "Matthews tried to shut her down, but she acted like it didn't matter, like he wasn't even talking sense! It was incredible, man! I've only seen _you_ show him that kinda defiance!"

Ray smirked; "See? Told you she'd be fine," he said to Nate ,then returned his attention to Zach; "so, she's fine, right?"

"More than that, man, way more than that!" Zach said; "On my way over I heard kids talking about how she'd risen up Duncan's stupid 'ladder'. She's supposedly a 'queen' or whatever," now he was becoming cynical and sarcastic; "She's risen to your place, Ray. She's your new Queen."

"Oh not with that shit again, Zach!" Ray said with a moan, turning and leaning against the fence.

"Dude, you are the _anti-Duncan_! More people have more faith in you than you wanna admit. You could easily knock Duncan off his pedestal. Hell, you'll probably become the new 'king' once that jerk graduates," he said absently, arms threaded through the links of the fence.

Ray gnawed on his lower lip as he thought. Nate watched him with a blank look, then looked at Zach; "Thanks Zach. If anything comes up tell us?"

That was Nate's polite version of "Okay, now get fucking going". Zach nodded, and ran off. Nate looked at Ray again, and then rolled his eyes. "Dude, admit it, your reputation proceeds you."

Ray looked forward for a moment, then looked at Nate; "why's it gotta be this way?" he asked; "Why's there gotta be a leader and a follower?"

Nate shrugged; "Such is the ways of humanity, my friend," he said. For all his bad habits, Nate was a genius in his own right. "You're defiant, arrogant, smart and loyal. Who wouldn't want you at the top of the pyramid? I mean, as a close friend I know of some flaws that…"

"Alright, alright! I get it," Ray grumbled; "So, 'knower-of-all-things', where's Meg in all of this?"

Nate regained his blank "can't believe you don't know" look, and simply replied; "Up there with you man, duh. I stated this earlier."

* * *

Jean had heard about what Duncan had done, and she hadn't liked the stories. It was just like him, to pick on younger students, and especially newbies. This stupid hierarchy of his… she was sick of it, even though being his girlfriend had its perks. When it was lunch time she stormed down the halls in search of him, and found him by the soda machines with several jocks.

"Duncan!" Jean said loudly, drawing attention from gossip to her.

Duncan looked at her and smiled; "Well, hey baby—!" he began, but Jean simply took his hand and dragged him off to a deserted hallway. Once they were alone she turned and confronted him.

"What did you do earlier?" she asked forthright.

"Aw, nothin' much baby, just tried to put a newbie in their place," Duncan said languidly.

"Why would you bother? I mean, what is it with you? Who cares about a social hierarchy, anyway?" Jean said; "I mean, all it does is—"

"Keep order around this place, that's what it does!" Duncan said loudly; "Without structure, there would be anarchy, Jean! If anything I'm doing a service! The fact that that little bi—!"

SMACK!

Before Jean could think twice she had slapped Duncan. Duncan was shocked; his hand went to the side of his face, and when he looked up he saw Jean's back quickly leaving him.

* * *

Lunch time rolled around, and Ray found Meg to escort her. They found a table outside in the court. It was a circular stone table, able to seat six or seven. Ray and Meg shared a seat, and then Nate came along with Joel and another girl. Her name was Amy, Joel's girlfriend. And finally, Cameron showed up.

"Alright, so tell us about your deal with Duncan," Cameron said suddenly.

"What deal? I just told him off is all," Meg said as she sipped on her Pepsi.

Ray rubbed his eyes; "Does it matter?" he asked the group; "This stupid hierarchy is pointless as it is."

"Yeah, but unfortunately your girlfriend here has managed to totally mess it up," Joel said.

"Hey now," Meg said; "He messed with me. I wasn't gonna let 'im."

"You should have!" Joel insisted; "Duncan can ruin you."

"So can his girlfriend Jean," Amy added.

"Jean? Nah, she ain't bad," Meg said, shaking her head.

Everyone save for Ray looked at her; "You're kidding," Nate said; "What planet are you from again? Jean's a cold hard bitch."

"Yeah, Duncan's," Joel said under a cough.

Meg shook her head again; "I don't thank so," she said.

"Well, to each his own," Nate said, sighing; "So, Ray, think Duncan will try and beat you up like he promised?"

"He'll have a hard time tryin'," Ray said with a smirk.

"Gonna give him the one-two?" Joel asked.

"Or a good shock?" Amy asked with a light laugh.

Ray tensed, and Meg did as well. Did they know? They couldn't possibly…

"Yeah, how's he gonna do that, let Duncan hit 'im?" Nate asked, and Amy laughed.

Ray sighed inwardly. No one knew. He was safe. Meg sighed as well, outwardly, though. She had gotten worried, worked up, for no real reason at all except for the fact that Ray was.

And that somehow scared her.

* * *

At the end of the day, Ray whistled as he gathered up his things from his locker, and headed for the parking lot. He had stayed after for Chemistry help. Only Two months into the school year and he was already lost. Kicking the door open with his foot, he jumped down the steps, only to hear a shrill whistle.

"Hey CRISP!" someone called loudly, and Ray whipped around.

Duncan and two other jocks were waiting around Ray's precious bike. They were all grinning, and as Ray walked over, Duncan met him halfway.

"Told ya I'd get ya," he said maliciously.

Ray stared at him apathetically; "Yeah, I know," he said, looking around; "Sad though, how no one else is around."

Duncan stared at him for a moment, then rolled his eyes; "Whatever. Put down your bag, punk."

Slowly, Ray sat his backpack down. He popped his knuckles, his neck, rolled his shoulders and his knees. "Ready?" he asked Duncan, who nodded.

Without warning, Duncan's fist swung out and clubbed Ray in the cheek. He was sent back several steps, heard laughter, and his anger was sparked. Catching himself he nearly growled as he launched himself at Duncan, tackling him and bringing him to the ground. He punched whatever felt like Duncan; stomach, leg, head, shoulder, arm, it didn't matter. As long as he did damage, Ray would rest easy tonight.

But Duncan had a strategy while Ray's movements were edgy and spastic. He carefully aimed his blows, dealt more pain by twisting his hand as he did. Twice Ray lost his breath; twice more did he taste fresh blood in his mouth.

Ray finally jumped up from the ground, breathing heavily. Duncan, still on his knees, was briefly perplexed by Harry's reflexes, but gradually he rose as well; "What…" he panted; "Had…enough…punk?"

"Hell no," Ray said, breathing a soothing breath to regain himself. He wiped the blood from his lip; "You're gonna pay now. I didn't do shit to you."

"You're stealin' my thunder, punk, that's the shit you did to me!" Duncan roared; "I won't be topped! Not now!"

He lunged then, and Ray dodged out of the way. Suddenly, he was in Recruit mode, locked in the Danger Room in a session. He dodged Duncan's advances, through punches when he could. His speed increased and his accuracy was one hundred percent. Soon he had Duncan breathing heavily from excursion.

With a final resort, Duncan suddenly held out his arm and clothes-lined Ray. Breathless Ray collapsed, not expecting that at all. Duncan grinned arrogantly as he stood over Ray, getting on his knees and locking his hands around Ray's neck.

"Now, I'll teach you… who the King…is…" Duncan muttered.

Ray's hands clawed at Duncan's arms as the jock began to squeeze. Ray coughed and sputtered obscenities, hitting Duncan repeatedly and kneeing him in the stomach. But it didn't stop the jock. Ray soon began to fear for his life. His mind raced faster than his heart. He felt a buzzing in his ears, literally felt it. Suddenly, power was coursing through his arms and to his fingertips.

Duncan howled as he was electrocuted, releasing Ray and flying back from the voltage. Ray gasped and coughed violently, retching though nothing came up. Duncan didn't move to show he was living; his foot only twitched. Worriedly, the two goons who had stood by watching rushed to him, bending down and picking him up.

"What the fuck did you do, Crisp!" one asked frantically.

Ray coughed again and looked over. Shit, he thought, getting up. He hobbled over, limping, looking at Duncan. There were slight burns on Duncan's arms, from his finger tips. How much power had he put out?

He suddenly thought that he had killed the jock. Worriedly Ray looked him over; his chest was moving.

"He's just unconscious…" Ray muttered.

The two jocks looked at him fearfully; "This never happened," Ray said; "I didn't want it to, you guys didn't want it to. Duncan became a little crazy because of his anger. He hurt himself. He. Hurt. _Him-Self_."

The two jocks nodded. Ray nodded as well; "Take him home, he'll come around." He instructed; "You two shitheads touch my bike?" he asked as he turned.

"No way," they jocks said in unison.

Ray went and picked up his backpack. He then trudged over to his bike, and saw his face in the reflection of the metal. He sighed. This would not go well at the institute. He tried to pick his bike up, but realized he had hurt his hand. He winced and tried to fold his fingers over; he could barely do that. He assumed that he had broken some knuckles. He bit his lip and grabbed his bike anyway, channeling the pain elsewhere as he picked the bike up. He got on, kicked the stand, and nearly fell over in the process. He was suddenly very weak. With hooded eyes, Ray started the bike, driven solely on his need to get home.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**!please review!**


	5. Reckless Abandon

**Like Waiting on Your Train to Come**

Chapter Five: Reckless Abandon

Meg came home from a tiring day at school. It had been a stressful, awkward two months. Not only had she had to adjust to public school, homework, and all of the people, but she had adapted to being Ray's girlfriend. They both had crowded schedules, Meg with her after school classes and Ray with his band. But he was steadfast and she was steadfast. Meg couldn't complain about her relationship.

She fazed into her room, and set her book bag down as she fell onto her bed. She was so tired for some reason… with a sigh she closed her eyes. A nap seemed like a good idea. She could do her English homework later…

* * *

Ray came home with a light skip to his step, having run by the café to check his hours. He wouldn't have to work until Thursday, which was fine by him. He whistled as he parked his bike and went into the Institute, diving in to avoid Rahne as she chased after Sam. Ray shook his head, but as he turned, he saw Ororo walking over with a small smirk on her face.

"Ah, Ray! Glad you came home at this time," she said.

"Uh, well I didn't have to work so…" Ray said uneasily, wary of his mentor suddenly.

"Well, I'll be frank," Ororo said; "Based on your recent deviancy, I've decided to run a few… trial runs, to explore your capabilities."

"Uh, I'd love to, Missus O," Ray said, laughing half-heartedly "But you see I've got all this homework and…!"

"Oh come now, _homework_?" one elegant white eyebrow arched and Ray knew that that excuse wouldn't fly.

Ororo smiled as Ray sighed in defeat; "Wonderful!" she said, clapping her hands; "Suit up and meet me in five!"

As she walked away, Ray ran a hand down his face, groaning; "I'm gonna hate this later…"

* * *

"I HATE THIS!"

Ray shouted as he fell to the hard floor, having dodged another orb of lightening. He looked around the rocky outcrop, noting the ledge not ten feet away. Quickly he jumped to his feet and popped his knuckles. He looked up and saw a shadow shoot across the skyline. He gritted his teeth, and somehow managed to pop his shoulders, and his back, in one fluid motion. He jumped as the shadow darted above him again, throwing his hand up. Electric bolts traced over his skin and reached out into the air at the object. They latched on and Ray winced as fresh energy coursed through him. He was instantly dragged along, caught up in the air by his attacker. Ray released himself from the blots, and threw his other hand out, this time getting him higher and closer. He repeated this, but as he was about to touch the cool metal underbelly, he looked ahead and…

SMACK!

Ray slammed into a rocky formation that had decided to pop up at the most ironic moment possible. His bolts of electricity died with his lack of focus, and he fell to land on a ledge. Groaning he rolled over, and angrily slammed his fist down on the ground as the rocky ground became a cool metal floor with the end of the simulation.

Static echoed around the Danger Room, and then Ororo's voice came over the intercom; "Well done, Berzerker, though I would have hoped you had more focus."

Sitting up Ray mocked her under his breath. He rose and took a sharp intake of breath as pain exploded from his shoulder. Instantly his hand went to it.

"Need me to look at that, Ray?" Hank's worried voice came loud and clear.

"Nah, just let me outta here!" Ray said jokingly, and he whipped around as the doors slid open upon his request.

* * *

Ororo and Hank watched as the young mutant left, then Ororo sighed; "He's gained a lot of power since we last evaluated him."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Hank said as he spun around in a spinning chair.

"It's not necessarily a bad thing," Ororo said; "It's just… I think it's causing an imbalance."

"Oh?" Hank stopped, staring at Ororo, eager to hear what she had arrived to.

"Well, he's become more prone to rebellion," Ororo quipped; "He's quick to anger…"

"He's a _pubescent male teenager_," Hank said; "Trust me, this is normal."

"Yes, I understand that," Ororo said; "Scott went through a phase like this, but not so…so…" she couldn't find the right word.

Hank sighed and got up; "Ororo, I'll give the boy a physical. But trust me, with his background and his disposition, this is completely expected."

* * *

Ray made his way from the bathroom, having showered and redressed. He ran his fingers through his damp, un-gelled hair. Passing a mirror he stopped to look at himself. Wearing only a black beater and ripped jeans, he seemed fairly decent. But beneath the beater was a large bruise from the training exercise, and he had a scar on his temple from his fight with Duncan. His hair fell around his eyes, he really couldn't see all that well. He was a bona-fide mess. Ray snorted indignantly, and continued on.

As he rounded the corner, he saw Jubilee and Bobby talking in the hall. Falling back, Ray kneeled and peered around. Jubilee was laughing, her hand touching Bobby's arm. Ray rolled his eyes, and then popped his knuckles. He froze to see if the sound distracted them, but the teens were oblivious. With a small snicker, Ray reached down and quickly rubbed his hands against the carpet. Soon, static electricity gathered, and he sent it straight towards the couple.

Jubilee screamed and Bobby shouted as they were both shocked, though Bobby's wasn't as bad because he was wearing tennis shoes. Jubilee was barefoot, however, and Ray was sure he had blistered her feet. She squealed and toppled over in pain, Bobby quick to aid her.

"BERZERKER!" Jubilee shrieked angrily, and Ray's eyes widened as Bobby jerked his head and caught him.

Scrambling to his feet Ray shot off, with Bobby soon on his heels; "You'll pay for that, Crisp!" he shouted.

"Aww, did I ruin the moment?" Ray asked innocently as he rounded a corner.

Ray darted into the first open room and hid behind the door. He froze and heard Bobby rush past, calling his name. Ray crawled to the other side of the room and hid on the other side of a bed. Only when he took the moment to calm down did he realize what room he was in.

Lying on the bed was Meg, curled up and looking distraught in her slumber. Worriedly, Ray watched her. She would move sometimes, her eyes would wander around beneath their lids… Ray slowly reached out to touch her gingerly, but he fell back when she suddenly screamed. Getting up Ray sat down beside her, panicking as she rolled over and thrashed about.

"Meg? Meg!" Ray said loudly, trying to take hold of her hands.

"No, stay away from me!" she shrieked hoarsely; "Don't hurt me!"

Ray grabbed her wrists and held them together. Meg cried out and tried to escape him; "I'm not different!" She cried as tears slowly came to surface on her face; "Please, let me go! Don't hurt me!"

"Shh, shh!" Ray said, embracing her; "I won't hurt you."

She beat against him, and then suddenly went slack. Worriedly Ray laid her back down, and saw her coming to. "Thank god!" Ray gasped, smiling as she opened her eyes.

"What in-the Hail r'you doin' in here?" Meg asked, sitting up so Ray had to sit back.

Ray frowned; "Well, you were freaking out a second ago," he said, "And obviously I was worried and got you up."

"Freaking out?" Meg asked, coughing.

"Yeah, as in, living a nightmare?" Ray quipped; "'Don't hurt me', 'I'm not different'… that ring a bell?"

Meg looked away, and then down in embarrassment; "Really?" she asked, looking at Ray. He nodded, and she sighed; "Not again!" she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

Ray studied her for a moment; "Hey," he said, nudging her. Then, he took her hands in his; "Wanna talk about it?"

Meg shook her head; "No, it's just a stupid nightmare," she said, smiling at him; "You wanna know something?"

"What?" Ray asked.

"Ya hair looks so silly righ' now," Meg said, giggling as she ran her hand back through his hair.

"Hey now!" Ray exclaimed, catching her hands and causing them to both fall back, Meg on top of him; "Oops! How awkward!" Ray said innocently.

Meg giggled, smiling as Ray release her hands; "Hey Ray…" she whispered, hands splayed against his chest.

"Yeah?" Ray asked quietly, while at the same time fighting so many teenage urges.

"You got anywhere to go this Christmas?"

"Nope…" Ray said with a sigh; "Why?"

"Come South wit' me, then," Meg said.

"Really? I dunno," Ray said; "Think it's too early for me to be meetin' the parents?"

Meg shrugged; "You think that?"

Ray didn't answer. He didn't know, he'd never had a relationship last so long as this one. "Well," Meg said; "What could it hurt? Y' ain't got nothin' else t' do 'round here."

"True," Ray said, nodding; "Why not? Could be fun. But," he sat up; If you try and convert me into some hick, I will get you."

Meg giggled; "Well baby, you bin wit' me fer so long, people already think y'are!"

* * *

It was two days until school would be let out. Two measly days that couldn't seem to end. Ray sat in his geography class, listening to the agonizing drone of his teacher. He let his gaze wander from the board to the window, fogged from the breaths of twenty students but still see-through. He watched cars dart by, tried to count snowflakes but couldn't focus long enough to get past twenty. There was just nothing to do.

And Meg was sick at the institute. She had come down with a bad cough, most likely a strain of the flu, Hank had deduced. She'd been sick for three days. Ray hadn't really been able to do anything about it; she slept most of the days away. Not that his life revolved around her…

A note hitting the side of his head brought him out of his spacey trance. Looking he saw it had been Kitty who had sent it, from a row ahead and two seats right. He unfolded it, read, and then replied.

_Hey. Gonna make it?  
Fuck off._

He'd never liked her, her or Jubilee for that matter. They both delighted in petty chit-chat, which he could feel coming by how she had just decided to right a note to him. When he sent the note back, she gasped, glared at him, and then replied.

_That's not nice! And when I was concerned about you!  
Not like I asked or anything._

_What, can't accept anything other than hostility?_

_Like I said before, FUCK OFF._

_Whatever. Look, Sam wanted to tell you that Logan fumigated the rooms. You and him are crashing in the rec room._

_And this matters now because…?_

_We all know your "get to home, get to room" routine. Didn't want you dying…_

_Sure._

When she sent it back, he didn't bother to read it. He merely crumbled it up. Ray was in no mood to parley with her.

Finally the bell rang, and the school day was over. Ray joined Nate and they worked on until seven. Even through the cold, Ray decided to walk. Keeping his coat tight around him, the tail of his apron billowed in the gale, caught through the belt loop of his jeans. He was heading home, but he had one more stop to make.

The Alley of his familiar escapes and ventures loomed into view. Turning into it, he found the manhole cover loose, ever-waiting. He removed it, climbed down the shaft, and sealed himself within. Thrown into darkness, he through caution to the wind and dropped down. His hand became alight with bolts of electricity, casting a yellow, pallid light on his surroundings. He ignored the musty, rank odor of the sewers, accustomed, and unfazed by them.

He began the quiet walk down the tunnel, opposite the flow of waste. The panel he walked across thinned and widened with time and place. Twice he had to dodge small waterfalls. Eventually, he came to a place where the grating Topside let light filter in. Retracting the bolts, Ray stuffed his hands in his pockets, and stared down the new passage way. He saw familiar boots sticking out of a tunnel. Slowly, they touched the ground, followed by legs, and then, the remainder of a female form.

_Callisto._

She stared at him with her one eyes, her eyebrow curved with her glare. She could see him as if they were out in the sun. Ray was tense as he watched her approach. Callisto had always had a militant air, demanding control of any situation without asking and easily getting it. She was one of the few people Ray respected undoubtedly. But also, she could instill fear in him.

And he was getting nervous.

"Berzerker?" she finally spoke, quiet, unsure.

"Yeah," Ray said, dropping his gaze; "I… I needed to come back for a second…"

"A _second_?" Callisto quipped bitterly, and Ray stared at her, hot tears in his eyes.

"Would you let me explain?" he asked heatedly, nearly losing his control. This was not an easy task, what he was about to do.

After a moment, she nodded, succumbing. Ray sighed; "I… I wanted you to know I'm… I'm sorry…"

The mutant knew how hard it was for the teen to admit such defeat, let alone show his shame. Callisto's gaze softened, if ever so slightly; "You left us, Berzerker," she said; "Why should I accept it?"

Ray looked away for a moment; "because, you gotta understand," he said, looking at her pleadingly; "I'm grateful for you taking me in, I can't tell you 'thank you' enough to cover just how thankful I am. But… I didn't want to spend my life lurking around in the shadows…" his admittance stunned even him.

Callisto was at a loss for words, but finally, she spoke; "Are you ashamed, Berzerker?" she asked, anger brimming.

Ray looked away; "I just…" he wanted to look at her, he really did. He didn't know what to say. Finally, he did look at her; "Professor says I'm making a lot of headway. I… I'll have more free time soon, once training lightens up. And… I was wondering if… when I had free time… could I help you, to make things right?"

"You didn't answer my question," Callisto mumbled, but then, she relented; "We'll see. Many of the others aren't pleased with your sudden absence."

"I don't blame them," Ray said honestly; "Callisto, I just wanted a chance of normality…"

"Normality? Berzerker, for you and I there is no such thing!" Callisto exclaimed; "Life will never be _normal_, no matter what you do!"

"**At least Iwant to try**!" Ray suddenly hollered, then he was silent, shocked. He had never raised his voice to her.

_Never_.

"Callisto, I…" he began, but she held up a hand, cutting him off.

"What happened to the boy I took in two years ago?" she asked, searching his eyes for the truth, though she found naught but angst and confusion. Sensing she knew, Ray looked away; "Berzerker, you've helped this tribe more than I think you know, but I suppose you always were looking out for just yourself. I cannot blame you, but I can resent it. You leave and we searched for you, thought of you for dead, or worse, captured by the Topsiders. But, here you are, clean, well fed, and saying you've left us for _Upworld_…" she stepped back, receeding into the stagnant darkness.

"Callisto…" Ray whispered, but when he looked up, she had gone.

Ray didn't know what to do then. He had come down to apologize, to make amends, so what had happened? He felt lost, like he had felt when he left his final group home. Now he was alone again, and this time, no considerate mutant would scoop him up and take him away.

Shaking, he turned and ran for the manhole. He scrambled back up into the world, slamming the manhole cover down with more force than he predicted. Ray scooted back and pressed himself against the alley wall, shaking in his sudden fit. Hot, angry tears fell from his tightly shut eyes. He gritted his teeth and rode it out, frozen from the cold and his need to move on.

When finally the fit subsided, and his breathing calmed, he relaxed and leaned his head back. Closing his eyes, he remembered the last time he had succumbed to his… little tendency. Ray was a creature of habit, and a stubborn one. When he couldn't cope with something, he stashed it away in a place he couldn't name. But eventually, it would resurface, and he'd be at its mercy.

He got up, wiping his knees free of the grime of the alley, and then made his way home, outwardly calm save for his troubled eyes. He never had been able to hide his emotions in his eyes. They were true windows to his soul. He picked up his pace, but realized he would not make it home until at least eleven. So, he flagged a taxi instead, and made it to the front gate in less than fifteen minutes. He punched in a code, and then began the walk up the long drive.

He was too confused. He was angry that school was so stressful, angry at himself. He was upset that he was butting heads with everyone except for Sam and Meg, and his dreams had become more… real, as of late. Jaded flashbacks, explosions, drunken spells… they all came back fresh and new, though so abhorrent that Ray's blood practically boiled. And the visit with Callisto… at first he was expecting to merely exchange pleasantries with Façade, or Caliban. That would have been good, not awkward or trying, at any rate.

Glancing at his watch, he saw it was 9:45. As he approached the front doors, he saw a figure standing in the window, silhouetted by the articulate chandelier hanging in the foyer. But in a second the door was open, but who was standing there was a surprise. Ray expected Logan, or Ororo.

But not Scott.

But there he was, dressed in his pajamas, arms cross, brow furrowed. Ray was silent as he became bathed in the light the open door offered. He stood in front of Scott, not necessarily eye to eye, but his gaze was strong enough to where that's how it seemed.

"Where have you been?" Scott asked; "It's nearly ten."

"I was out," Ray said, shoving past the X-Man.

Scott slammed the door shut, and that caused Ray to stop and turn in time to see Scott advancing. A lot of people had done that lately, he thought.

"What's wrong with you?" Scott asked, blunt and unforgiving.

Ray adopted his apathetic air, too weary and fed up for confrontation, as much as he loved it. "Wrong with _me_? What's up with you giving me the third degree?"

Scott got closer still, trying to be overbearing; "You drift in and out of here like this is just a pit stop. You don't tell anyone when and where you go, when you'll be back, if you'll be back. Hell, you've got Ororo worried sick whenever you don't come home by curfew. I'm surprised you made it by now!"

As Scott continued, Ray's temper flared dangerously. He could find nothing but contempt for the other teen. Ray was not a seven-year-old anymore. Scott apparently didn't know about the last guy who talked to him like this. Then again, they had never got along. Not during school, not at the Institute, not in the Danger Room, even. Ray tended to have his own training sessions, and when he was incorporated, he did something Scott didn't like.

He thought.

Ray had always been a deviant by nature, quick to think and act on his own accord, regardless. Seasoned years in group homes had taught him thatto _survive_, you had to fend for yourself first and others later. He was keen to fade when lectures plagued his time, even from Xavier and Hank. But Scott was not a superior, he was just a peer. And Ray could hardly put up with it...

But finally, he snapped; "Shut the fuck up!" Ray hissed, getting in Scott's face; "I didn't piss in your cheerios today, _did I_? Back the hell away. You don't understand so don't think you know."

"Yeah no shit I don't know!" Scott said, shoving him back. He forgot about trying to be civil in his words. "What is this place to you Ray, huh? A half-way house, a _shelter_! You can't just come in here and expect to get by without some involvement with everybody else! So what if you pull your weight in the Danger Room, work your ass off in the Sims, what's it matter? You're not part of the team… _You don't want to be_." He finished his tirade solemnly, as if it had finally dawned on him.

Ray felt the hair on his arms stand on end. His emotions were flaring up; "Why would I want to be?" he snapped, though quietly, subdued; "You're just a fucking fanatic with red goggles, Scott. I don't want anyone leading me around when they're too worried about how they will look when it's all said and done. Sure, you think quick on you feet. Yeah, you're pretty tough. But dammit if you try at all outside of the Danger Room! Do you even know who Sam's mom is? Do you even know where Amara comes from? Do you even know the people trying so hard to please you that THEY CAN'T SEE STRAIGHT!" his voice rose with each word, until he paused to let it all sink in.

"Well fuck that shit. I ain't buyin'. My life's been hard enough. And don't even say you understand!" he cut Scott off sharply as the teen opened his mouth to speak; "I don't know what it's like falling out of a plane and realizing you were suddenly alone, but at least you have happy memories! My home life sucked, Scott! And… and _the homes_! I felt like a fucking hand-me down! So sue me if I have a hard time coping with something that cares about me! This place scares the shit out of me; it keeps me tense and edgy! I can't wrap my head around why you people care so much, and that's my fucking issue!

"Stop treating me like I'm just a part of a group," Ray finally seethed; "I didn't ask to be a 'New Recruit'. Don't expect me to fall in with something I don't want to. Cuz you'll just lose;" his glare softened to a stony gaze, nevertheless still defiant.

Scott was frowning now; "Hypocrite," he said, and Ray was taken by surprise. "You heard me," Scott continued; "Standing there telling me no one knows, that you stand alone, that that's how you like it." He shook his head; "I pity you."

Then Ray did something he could not have controlled, or thought about. He threw his hands forward and jolted Scott once his fingertips touched the cotton shirt. Scott yelped as he jumped back. Ray clenched his fists and they stayed in midair.

"I just got back from saying good-bye to the one person who gave a shit about me, Summers," Ray said; "the _only_ one. And now even they don't want anything to do with me. Not part of the team? Fine, I'll pack my shit and be gone by the end of Break."

"We're not done!" Scott called, stopping him before Ray could mount the steps. He whipped him around and stepped back as a precautionary move, then continued; "Why didn't you tell anyone? About anything you've had to put up with?"

Ray looked away darkly; "You'd have nightmares," he whispered darkly; "You can check the Chicago Tribune to find out how I ended up in the State's custody. As for the rest, I'm sure you could imagine."

"Look, Crisp," Scott sighed; "Don't go. I didn't mean what I said…"

"Yeah you did," Ray said sharply; "Through anger breathes truth and passion. Beast told me that one."

Scott couldn't argue with Hank's philosophy. "Okay, fine," he said; "I won't apologize."

"Now you're catchin' on," Ray said; "You're always apologizing, Scott, all of you guys are. Like you're ashamed of yourselves…"

"Don't you feel shame?" Scott asked.

"If I do, I don't notice," Ray said; "I live for truth, and I never lie. If I say something, I mean it. If I do something, it wasn't on accident," he paused; "Look, just let me go to bed? I didn't need the third degree tonight. Besides, that's Logan's job."

AS he turned, Scott asked one final question.

"Why do you give Logan respect, but no one else?"

Ray sighed quietly, then turned again; "Because," he replied; "He brought me here," at Scott's look of inquiry, Ray sighed again; "And that's all I'm gonna say."

Scott's lips pursed and his brow knotted together, but he nodded. Ray didn't acknowledge him, only continued on up to his room.

* * *

**TBC**

****

* * *

a/n: please review! 


	6. So Stay With Me?

**Like Waiting on Your Train to Come**

Chapter Six: So Stay with Me?

Gentle sunlight slowly flooded the room through open curtains, dust floating in the morning haze. Rolling over, Ray slowly woke, his eyes opening to the cozy room he had been given. He lay under the comfort the sheets and quilt provided for him, nestled snuggling between in a mound of pillows. He splayed his hand out across the downy mattress, reveling in the comfort. Homemade things suited him.

Finally he rose, looking at his clock to find it projecting an earlier time. He frowned, still not certain why he could not sleep in. Perhaps it was all the early DR Sessions… He shrugged and donned a hoodie, pulling up his pajama pants as they trailed on the ground, Then, he shuffled out of his room, careful to be silent as to not wake up the other inhabitants of the plantation home.

He finally made his way to the kitchen, shuffling out the back door to go sit on the porch that wrapped around the house. But the west side gave an impressive view of the rolling fields and mountains beyond. It also made for incredible sunrises. But Ray found himself not to be alone on this morning.

Sitting in a rocking chair was an elderly man of sixty or so, with an unlit cigar between his fingers. Wearing overalls and a jacket, a hat sat on his knee. He was staring off at the land he still owned, the land his father had owned, whose father's grandfather has established. Generation upon generation, and it was his turn, soon his son's.

This was Ulysses DeBonte, but kindly called "mule" for his stubborn, caring nature. He looked up only when Ray shuffled past and sat down in the adjacent rocking chair, glittering grey eyes filled with a father's love. He alone had been quick to accept Ray into the family fold, being one of his few defenses here on the farm. Ray was fro ma scene scorned and unheard of in the tiny town. But Mule had welcomed him as a fresh breeze of change.

"Get a good sleep?" Mule asked after a time of silence, lifting the cigar to his mouth. It was not lit, he never smoked them. He chewed them.

Ray nodded, coughing; "Best sleep yet," he said, laughing quietly; "Never thought."

Mule laughed; "Homemade things are best," he said; "What's got yew up this early, 'nyhow? Woulda thought ya'd be dead 'til noon!" another raspy laugh, contagious.

"I couldn't sleep in, sir," Ray replied.

"Damn you boy I told you call me by mah name!" Mule exclaimed; "This 'sir' stuff's got a man feelin' old!"

Ray laughed; "Sorry," he said.

Mule laughed as well; "Ah, no shame in manners," he said; "Got more 'n most down 'ere, no how."

Ray laughed again. He was a fool for the dialect Meg and her family spoke in. Soon though, a peaceful silence reigned, Ray thinking whilst Mule just gazed off in admiration.

"How old is this place, anyway?" Ray asked quietly, reverently.

"Bin 'round since afore the Civil War, I kin tell ya that," Mule replied; "Hasn't left the DeBonte family yet."

"Oh," Ray said nodding; "Sure is something…"

"What?" Mule asked.

"How nothing's really changed," Ray explained; "Maybe it's because I'm a city kid, but I can't get enough of this place. Time doesn't matter here…" his voice trialed off.

Mule looked at him with a knowing grin; "Butchew got a lot more on yur mind than this here farm," he said.

Ray nodded, and Mule sighed as he settled back in his chair; "Ah'll tell ya this, Ray," he said; "An', if Ah'm wrong just tell me. I bet yur thinkin' 'bout how yur feelin'," Ray looked up in surprise; "Take it Ah'm right," Mule said; "You'll know when yur hooked. You wonder what thur up to alla time, you wanna breathe the air they breathe… when yur away, they keep yur head up and yur face smilin';" he looked at Ray then; "Lemme tell you somethin', kid.

"I went through two wars, World Ward Two, 'n' then 'Nam. Both times I was gone fer two years. Two years wit'out seein' this farm," he paused; "Marge kept me from dyin' more times 'n she'll ever know. If anything, I fought fer her an' my son. Her smile, her laugh, her voice. Hell, even all the times she beat me for bein' out late an' not tuckin' our son in. Alla that, it kept me _alive_. If bein' caught up in death and mayhem an' war is what I needed, all it did was make me realize how much I loved her…" he looked away then, gazing off; "Yup, sometimes it's hardships like that that make a man realize what life's worth livin' for."

Ray nodded. He felt proud to be privy to such a fact, Mule's little confession. He knew Meg's grandmother to be one of the most selfless and thoughtful people he'd ever met. She was a lot like Missus O, if not a lot older and with more children under her wings. And Mule was certainly a decent man; simple and with a strong spiritual core.

"What does Meg usually eat for breakfast?" Ray suddenly asked, perking up and looking at Mule expectantly.

Mule was taken aback by the sudden question. He looked at Ray in amusement, and shook his head. _Boy should know, he's been livin' with her for a couple months._ "Eggs, fried," he said; "An' toast. Cider, too, if I 'member rightly."

Ray nodded and got up, thanking Mule for the talk before shuffling into the house again. He had a lot of work to do.

* * *

After breakfast, Ray and Meg set about exploring the farm. Ray was still adjusting to needing a jacket in the morning, a shirt in the afternoon, and a sweater in the evening. Being acclimatized, Meg wore a simple long sleeve T-shirt all day. Ray had to be complicated. After they ran back to get his jacket, Meg took his hand and led him off through the woods.

"Where we goin'?" Ray asked, eyes darting everywhere to take it all in.

"You'll see…" Meg said.

"Ooh, taking me to a love shack?" Ray asked with a laugh; "Well I never…!"

"Haha, you wish!" Meg said with a coy smile, "No, this is better."

"What's better than sex?" Ray asked; "More sex?"

Meg laughed again; "Come on, horn dog," she said, making her way through to tall shrubs.

Ray looked down as his feet began walking on old stone. He looked up and saw an old barn ahead of them, music coming from the open windows and open doors. Venturing in, he found it to have been converted. The stalls had been taken down and there were couches and chairs, there were two pool tables, a juke box. There were two ladders and a set of stairs leading up to the second floor. There were around twenty kids here and there, kids Ray had seen in town hanging out at the diner and grocery store.

Meg led him over to a select group who sat on couches and barrels. She introduced him to them. Sarah, Reggie, John, Mary, Ann, Regina (Reggie's twin sister) and several others Ray didn't catch. While Meg sat him down on a couch, he saw Reggie ask to talk to her off to the side, And Meg did, John and Mary left to play pool, and that left Ray alone and defenseless. At once three girls descended on him, Sarah, Ann, and Regina, if he remembered.

* * *

"What's up, Reggie?" Meg asked as they stood by the juke box.

Reggie smiled; "Jus' wanted t' talk to you," he said; "Like old times."

Meg smiled; "Didn't expect you t' bring some'n down witcha," Reggie commented.

Her smile faded; "Yeah," Meg said slowly, looking back for a moment; "He's somethin' special, Reg," she said, looking at him again.

"Oh Ah'm sure 'e is," Reggie said; "Guy's gotta be if'n you picked 'im."

Meg laughed; "so, what d'ya think?" she asked; "An' don't lie t' me, Reg. Yur opinion's important."

"Ah always think you deserve better," Reggie said.

"Well, I can't marry Jesus, Reg!" Meg said with a light laugh; "Why, who ya got in mind?"

Reggie looked down; "I dunno," he said, looking at her; "Me, Ah guess…" her eyes grew wide and Reggie regretted what he'd said immediately.

"Oh, Reggie…" Meg said, wanting to touch his shoulder, but stopping at the last minute. She didn't know what to think, what to say. She was with Ray, and had never thought… It was too confusing for her, a concept so far off she didn't dare try to grasp it.

* * *

"So… yur from up North?" Ann asked, sitting a little to close for comfort.

Ray nodded and scooted away, only to collide with Sarah and Regina. "Y-yeah," Ray said, surrounded; "I am."

"Ooh, lookit!" Sarah exclaimed, grabbing Ray's wrist. Pushing his sleeve back, she revealed his tattoo; "Whur'd you get this?" she asked.

Ray jerked his arm out of her grasp, hiding the tattoo; "At a parlor," he replied, trying to stay civil.

"Most boys who got them bin in trouble," Regina muttered; "_You_ ever bin t' prison?"

"No," Ray said flatly. He tried to get up; "It's bin nice talkin' to you, ladies, but I'm…"

"What's the rush?" Ann asked, her hand on his chest as he pushed him back down; "Sidown 'n' stay awhile."

"Yeah, Meg's a prude," Regina said with a light laugh; "You could have a lot more fun with us…"

"Sorry, I'm out of ones," Ray grumbled dispassionately, getting up quickly.

He walked over to Meg, pulling her away from her conversation. With all his courage, he kissed her, never having done so in public before. When they parted, she looked up at him, shocked.

"What was tha' about?" she asked with a small smile, though it was not necessarily a happy one.

Ray glanced at the couch he'd escaped, seeing the heated stares. He looked back at Meg; "I was just making things clear," he said; "I love you."

Meg gasped. This was too much; "Why… why Ray!" she gasped, that being all she could come up with.

Reggie watched on, anger brewing in his heart. He pursed his lips and crossed his arms, turning away.

Meg was about to reply, but a shot cried out through the air. The jukebox was shut off, then there was a scramble for cover. Several people screamed, and Ray heard John cry out; "Toute le monde duvet!"

Ray didn't understand him, but Meg dragged him down to the ground as they hid behind an old stall wall. There was another shot, Ray flinched and felt Meg stiffen. He wrapped his arm around her, his other hand at the ready. He peered over the wall, having a clear view of the doors and outside world. He heard something coming through the woods, heading for the barn.

"it's Adele!" Ray heard someone whisper.

"Who?" he whispered.

"Town drunk," Meg replied; "Lives up inna mountains, only comes down fer food 'n' booze."

Ray nodded; "I'm gonna check it out," he said, rising.

"No, Ray, don't!" Meg said, grabbing his hand; "It could be somethin' more 'n Adele!"

Ray simply gave her a reassuring grin, and she was forced to let go as he stood up fully and walked to the doors.

Ray was tense; his shoulders already knotting up. He walked out into the open, popping his knuckles. He flinched as yet another shot rang through the air, cringing as his ears rang. The bullet had been in his general direction, he heard it imbed itself in a tree.

He gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and shouted; "Who's out there? Come on, show yourself, you coward!"

"Who's a-callin' me a coward!"

Ray looked over to see a grizzly, drunk man come out of the woodwork, shotgun in one hand, whiskey in the other. He staggered a bit before standing still, looking at Ray with contempt.

"Whoa, take it easy, man," Ray said, hands up.

The situation had gotten a lot worse. Leave it to Ray for his ego to get the better of him.

"Who're you?" the man asked in a slurred voice.

"Who are you?" Ray retorted.

"They calls me Adele," he replied, holding the bottle up to look at the contents lazily. He threw it aside, laughing as it shattered on the ground.

"You're wasted," Ray said.

This angered Adele. He cocked the shotgun with both hands, swaying slightly; "Don'tchu make a durned move!" he shouted.

His aim was cockeyed, to the side, no doubt aiming for Ray but certainly not close. Yet Ray wouldn't take his chances. In the end a gun was a gun and he was just flesh and bone. Besides, if he used his abilities, the other kids would freak out and his cover would be blown. Somehow, he felt Meg's eyes on him, worried and frustrated he'd yet to make a move. She always expected that of him; to never back down.

And he wouldn't.

"Go home!" Ray shouted.

"You go home!" Adele retorted, taking a cautious few steps forward; "This be my property! Isa sick o' you kids blastin' that rubbish you call music!" he hiccupped then, blowing the threatening façade.

"You fire that gun you'll miss and mess up 'your property'," Ray said; "Go home and sober up!"

Adele frowned, "Get a-goin'," he warned, finger on the trigger.

Ray was backed into the corner; "Shoot me," he warned, and you'll end up fried like chicken," he snapped his fingers then, drawing a spark from the friction.

Adele noticed. He gawked at Ray, who smirked at the sudden flux of power. He snapped again, a bolt coursed over his arm. Adele's gun hung slack in his hands.

"No, you get going," Ray said, advancing.

Adele glared at him, backing up. He muttered something Ray didn't catch, and then he sank back into the folds of the forest. Ray was still as he listened, hearing Adele recede deeper and deeper, not to mention farther away. When the coast was clear, he made his way back into the barn, finding people crowded and waiting.

Meg left the throng and he caught her up in his arms. He swung her around once and set her down, but only saw her frowning. Meg then proceeded to smack him lightly, enough to turn his head, though. Ray stared at her in surprise.

"Don't ever do that kinda shit again, ya hear?" Meg asked; "Liked to kill me!"

Ray smiled apologetically; "I'm sorry!" he said; "I got rid of him though!"

"You sure?" John asked.

"Yeah," ray said, nodding. He looked at Meg; "Can we go? Not to be rude, but I'm kinda strung out now," he added with a little laugh.

Meg looked at him and smiled; "Sure," she said.

They said their goodbyes and began to head off, and Ray saw Meg look over her shoulder. He did as well, and saw Reggie watching them go. He suddenly grew very territorial, and wrapped his arm around Meg, eyes locked with Reggie's. He had just issued a primal statement of ownership. Meg was his. No one else's.

Reggie gave him the one-finger salute in response.

A challenge.

* * *

The block party was actually held between two farms, the DeBonte's and the Madison's. Meg's father, Matthias, a round, aging man with a graying head of hair, made sure everything and everyone was taken care of. The houses were lit up to suit the holiday, and a good section of the porch had been sectioned off for the younger people. Nearly the entire town was there, down to the youngest of babies to the oldest of elders. They sat on the front porch, reminiscing as the generations met and played along the front lawns.

To say things simply, there were cars parked all up and down the old dirt road, from city square to last farm.

Ulysses made Ray change out of his sweat shirts and jeans for the occasion, saying a little bit of culture would do him good. Meg's mother had bought him a navy blue sweater and a pair of khakis, but she made a deal that if Ray could wear the sweater, he could wear blue jeans. Still, Ray felt alien in the new set of clothing. Sweaters weren't his thing, but if it made Meg's family happy, he could put up with it.

Ray made his way through the crowd, looking for the head of red hair. He found Meg out in the back yard, playing with some toddlers. She picked the youngest of the group up, a little one-and-a-half-year old angel girl with curly blonde hair and big blue eyes. Meg held her to her hip, while a little boy tugged at her sweater. Ray watched as she went over and took the little boy to his mother, but kept the angel child. She turned and saw Ray, and waved. Ray smiled, and walked over.

"Well, somebody can clean up after all," Meg said, smiling.

"Yeah, I tried," Ray said, "Who's this?" he asked, smiling to the little girl.

"Oh, this is Patience," Meg said, shifting the girl from one hip to the other. The little girl laid her head against Meg's shoulder; "She's a little tired," Meg said to Ray quietly.

"Did you used to baby sit her?" Ray asked.

"No, she's my niece," Meg replied.

"_…Huh_?"

"Yeah, my older brother Chris, I thought I told you I had siblings," Meg said; "I'm the youngest. She's Chris's. He and his wife Angie are missionaries, and they're in for the holiday."

Ray inwardly sighed, "Oh," he said; "Wait, how many brother do you have?"

Meg laughed quietly at his look of fear when she said, "Five."

"F-five?" Ray stuttered, coughing; "And you're the youngest?"

"Yeah," Meg replied slowly; "Ray, yur a'ight. Nothin's gonna happen to ya. 'Sides, no one's gonna ever hurt my Shock Tart."

"You know how that sounds?" Ray asked, wrapping an arm around her; "Really good. But please, only when it's just us."

Meg giggled; "Yeah, well," she shifted Patience from one hip to the other, and the little girl giggled as the soft fabric of Meg's sweater tickled at her delicate legs.

"Ooh la la! What is this?" John called as he approached with a warm smile on his face. The teen clapped Ray on the back, saying; "Knew you two were up to something!"

"John!" Meg gasped, holding Patience to her with a hand over the child's ears; "I do declare!"

John laughed; "Perhaps I'll take this little girl to her dad?" he held his hands out. "Ya know, let you two have some fun."

Meg handed him Patience, who reached out to her for a moment before deciding to tug at John's glasses. Ray and Meg watched him depart, then Meg gasped.

"Ooh, they're playin' BS!" Meg exclaimed, taking Ray's hand as she went for a table.

"Say what?" Ray asked.

"BS! You know, Bullshit?"

"Never heard of it…"

"Really? Poor thing!"

So she had him sit down and partake in the card game. Ray understood it, but he was not one for games, or for lying. He was not a great fan of either. Eventually, he excused himself to get more tea from the kitchen.

He shuffled in, yes, shuffled, and found that a new pot was already brewing, He decided to wait on it, content with watching the party through a window. It was much warmer in the kitchen than outside, but somehow, it was comforting.

"Hey yank…"

Ray spun on his heels, and saw Reggie standing in the doorway, scowling.

"That's not my name," Ray muttered, leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

"It's what y'are, though," Reggie said, walking a little closer to Ray; "besides bein' a _freak_."

Ray glared at him; "Watch what you say, hick," he said through gritted teeth, fists clenching.

"Well what else are you?" Reggie asked, "Y'ain't human, ain't a man…" his voice trailed off as he looked up and down; "Ain't fit to be with Her, neither."

"So you say," Ray seethed.

"So Ah _know_," Reggie snapped. Then, he was suddenly standing in front of Ray, threatening, up close and too personal. He was glaring, his eyes seeming alight in some feral glow.

"When you get back up from where you came…" Reggie whispered, and Ray heard a click; "Yur gonna end it, what you got goin' on wit' Meg. She don't need no Yankee holdin' her hand."

Ray wasn't sure if he should speak, shoved Reggie, or shock him. So, he just glared, and pursed his lips. "Who the hell are you to say that?" Ray finally spoke, quiet, dull, seething with hostility; "I'm as good as anybody."

"She don't need _anybody_," Reggie muttered, and Ray saw the knife, close to his heart, flat but easy to turn.

"Who does she need, then?" Ray asked, eyes hooded as if he were bored; "you?" he laughed quietly; "C'mon, Reg, be real."

Reggie's eyes narrowed into something Ray had grown to anticipate, _frustration_. As Reggie pulled his hand back Ray ducked, hearing the knife collide with the countertop. He kicked Reggie's feet out from under him, and rose to pull the knife from the counter. But Reggie was up and they grappled for the knife, ending up fighting with each other. Reggie threw well-aimed punches, catching Ray in the side twice and once in the gut. But Ray was quick to retaliate. He caught Reggie's jaw, his side, and his chest. They were all around the kitchen, knocking things over, it was a wonder someone had yet to intervene .Finally, Ray lost control. His hands lit up, he threw them out and took hold of Reggie's arm. As he threw him to the ground, He sent a good thousand volts into the other boy.

Ray fell to his knees then, gasping. His cheek was bleeding, his knuckles were raw, his fingertips raw. Reggie was in no better state, still though his chest rose and fell in frantic breaths. Ray saw the knife lying on the ground, and picked it up. He held it in Reggie's face, loosely.

"Threaten me with this kinda shit again," Ray said through his breathing; "And I'll light you up so bad you could see your ass from space." And he meant it.

Reggie stayed silent, glaring at him heatedly. Ray then did something Reggie didn't expect: he helped him up; "You're feet are probably numb," Ray said; "Walk around and get the blood flowing. I didn't mean to make it that strong."

Reggie just stared; "I'm not heartless," Ray said; "Now help me pick everything up before Meg's mom comes around…"

Ray left the kitchen some ten minutes later, bumping into Meg as he walked down the main hallway. She gasped when she saw his cheek; "Ray, what happened?"

Ray instantly covered the wound with a hand; "Nothin'," he said, "It's just a scratch."

"A scratch my ass," Meg said as she took him by the hand and led him to a bathroom.

He sat down on the commode as she rummaged through a cupboard, pulling out a small little wooden box. Opening it, he saw a collection of new and old age medicine. It made him uneasy.

"Uh… Meg…" Ray began.

"Chill, chill," Meg said, getting out a tiny jay filled with opaque goo. Meg walked over and sat down on a small little stool in front of him; "Move your hand."

"What is that?" he asked, motioning to the jar.

"_Aloe_, hun," Meg said flatly.

Ray frowned, hand dropping to his lap. Meg wiped his face with a cloth, and the dabbed the aloe; "Get this fro ma pocket knife?" she asked.

"How could you tell?" Ray mumbled, not wanting to move as she worked.

"It's a clean cut," she explained; "Ain't jagged, means the blade's not dull, and kept in a sheath…" she looked at Ray; "you an' Reggie get into it?"

"Yeah, after he threatened me with a switchblade," Ray grumbled.

"He's good wit' that thing," Meg mused; "Yur lucky."

Ray was about to speak, but Meg continued; "Reggie's folks got a lotta influence on the town," she said; "Just… if anyone asks ya, say it was a misunderstandings'. I don't want the farm under any other pressure."

Ray studied her eyes, and then finally nodded. "No one came in, did they?" Meg asked.

Ray shook his head; "Just me an' him," he replied.

"Keep it that way," She said firmly.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

A/N: hey, if anyone reads to this chapter please tell me what you think. I need to know! 


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